A New Swordsman in Los Angeles - Part 3
by Frapper
Summary: <html><head></head>Story taking part in the 3rd challenge "An Unexpected gift", where Zorro must swing from the chandelier; someone must receive a gift and not know who it is from; the alcalde's desk must be mentioned; someone must get caught on a storm and get wet; there should be a scene from an episode. It is a continuation from the trilogy "A New Swordsman in Los Angeles" part 1 and 2.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes: **This story takes part on the 3rd challenge "An Unexpected Gift", which should include: someone must get caught in a storm and get wet; someone must receive an unexpected gift but not know who it is from; Zorro must swing from the chandelier; the alcalde's desk must be mentioned; someone should get wet on a storm; there should be a scene from an actual episode.

This is a continuation from my story taking part in the first challenge "Too much wine", and the second challenge "A Death in the Pueblo." I thought it was an interesting idea to write 3 linked stories with the requirements for the 3 challenges. In the end, it was a much bigger challenge!

There are a few original characters introduced on the first part. You should read PART 1 and 2 of "A New Swordsman in Los Angeles" first, or you won't have a clue what's going on, with Diego married to a stranger. ;)

WARNING: again, a few injuries and medical treatments. Nothing too alarming, but skip those if you don't like blood and pain (but that was real life for a surgeon at a time without painkillers and proper anaesthetics).

DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the NWZ series. It is a non-profit project intent for entertainment purposes only. All copyrights on the characters belong to Zorro Productions Inc. except the original characters created by me (i.e. the Blasco family).

**A New Swordsman in Los Angeles – PART 3**

**Chapter 22 – Unexpected news **

The special mixture was working better than expected. On his reflection in the mirror, Diego could hardly see any traces of the scars on his torso. However, down in the cave, the dim light provided by the candles was not the best one to appreciate the full effect of his new invention, so he got upstairs to look at it by daylight. When he opened the secret door behind the fireplace he startled Felipe, who was quietly reading in the library.

"Felipe, come with me. I want to show you something." Quite intrigued, the young man followed Diego to his room.

"Look at this. Can you see the scars?" asked Diego, taking his shirt off. Felipe approached him and touched the spots where he knew the scars were, but he could not see them. He shook his head, amazed, with a broad smile. "I have been working on this for a few days. I want to surprise Cristina; she doesn't like scars," said Diego with a cheeky wink. "And it may come in handy if I ever need to conceal them. This is the paste," he said, handing it over. "Help me to cover them all. I can't reach some of them, specially the gunshot on my back. You'll have to apply several layers, letting it dry in between, and then cover it with this powder to match my skin tone."

Felipe did as instructed. It took him a while, because Diego's body was covered with marks, new and old. It was sort of a miracle he didn't have any on his face or neck, which would have been very obvious for everybody, making the task of identifying him as Zorro a piece of cake.

"That's perfect. Thank you, Felipe. Now I have to find out how long I can leave it on before it rubs off." He slipped his clothes back on. "Hopefully it will last until tonight", he laughed, slapping Felipe's shoulder on their way out. The youngster smiled back with an understanding cheeky look on his face.

ZZZ

The time had come to walk away; the patient wait was over. After collecting his weapons and his blue coat, which hung quite loose as he had lost so much weight, he started to slowly make his way downstream. Coming out of his prison, he focused on the difficult task ahead: descending down the narrow canyon, all the way thinking about that glorious moment when he finally would be able to release the vast amount of hatred he had bottled up inside. A sinister grin distorted his face while dreaming up his enemy's fate, a certain death by his hand.

ZZZ

That night, an exhausted Cristina was lying in bed half asleep already, waiting for Diego, who was taking his time to get undressed. Her day had been quiet and boring, but she felt as if she had been running non-stop for 24 hours, and all she wanted to do was to fall asleep.

"Do you see anything different?" asked Diego while walking slowly around the room in his underwear, stretching his arms wide open and turning round a couple of times, proudly showing his muscular torso. Cristina blinked drowsily. She didn't have a clue what he was talking about, and finally said, uncertain:

"Uh… did you shave?"

"No! Pay more attention, will you?" he said slightly cross, turning round again. Then she realized.

"The scars. They are gone!" she gasped, sitting up a bit. "How did you do that?"

"I have been working on a special concealer, just for you," he winked. "It is a shame, if I keep using this cream, I won't be _cool _anymore. But you will be happy, no hideous scars to bother your eyes."

"Stop using that silly word" she said, elbowing him when he jumped in bed close to her. She accommodated her head on his now unscarred torso, her favourite pillow. "_Cool_? It doesn't make sense. You are not cold, if anything you are warmer than a burning fireplace." She kissed his warm skin and hugged him while yawning. "And I love you, all of you, so that means I also love your scars. No need to hide them" she added with a sluggish somnolent voice.

Diego pushed her gently away from him back on her pillow, and reached for her mouth. She reacted weakly to the kiss, lifting her left arm around his neck, but soon her hand slipped down back on the bed when she fell asleep in his arms. He was disappointed, but he smiled looking at her adorable beautiful face.

"I love you too" he whispered, tenderly kissing her forehead. Then, he turned to lie on his back, and with great care he lifted her limp head to place it back on top of his chest. He fell asleep shortly after while caressing her gorgeous shiny dark hair.

ZZZ

A very distressed Felipe rushed into the library the next day. He was out of breath, red faced and sweaty, and eager to communicate something to Diego.

"Felipe, what's wrong?" asked Diego. The young man started to gesticulate frantically, moving his arms like a windmill. "Please, slow down, I can't understand you."

Felipe ran his hands over his head, puffing in frustration, and started again, slower this time.

"So, you were at the ravine today… and you looked down into the precipice again... Why? You shouldn't do that. I told you it is dangerous. Cristina nearly fell down because a portion collapsed and…"

Felipe shook his head and grabbed Diego's arm, shaking it to make him shut up and listen, and he continued signing.

"What? You could only see one body at the bottom?" Felipe nodded vigorously. "Are you sure? There should be two bodies there quite close together, unless they were taken by predators. Calm down, we will go and have a look again, I am sure there should be a logical explanation for that."

Two months had passed since that day when the Cossack brothers chased him to the other side of the ravine, where two men plunged to their death. Diego had recovered quite well from all his injuries, but was still convalescent regaining his strength, especially on his left arm, which was significantly weaker after all that time immobile in the bulky sling so the muscles could heal without tension.

Only five days ago Zorro had been out exercising Toronado on a gentle ride, and they had been in that area close to the ravine. Diego, not very proud of the fact he had killed one of the Russians in self-defence, had looked down from the edge to check on the bodies. He would have preferred to have them properly buried, but nobody had bothered to try to reach them as it would have been quite difficult, if not impossible. That day he clearly saw two body shapes at the bottom, and it was quite hard to imagine the situation would have changed, so he assumed Felipe was confused. Nonetheless, he went along with him to check, to calm him down.

"Where are you going, handsome prince of _coolness_?" asked Cristina, when she saw the pair getting their horses ready by the main entrance, fastening the girth straps. "Are you well enough to ride?" Diego chuckled facing the saddle; she didn't know yet he had been out as Zorro. He turned around to face her.

"Of course I am, dear, don't worry. Would you like to join us?" he offered. She had recovered from her injuries herself, and was very keen to ride again –especially now that she could finally ride like a man, astride, without the uncomfortable sidesaddle– but she had to decline the offer. She would love to go riding with them, but, for the last couple of days, she had felt run down on energy, and most food would make her heave, especially in the mornings. She suspected the cause for this, but she had not confirmed it yet. Men didn't talk about female morning sickness at the taverns, so she would have to ask her mother about it. She sighed at the thought of another _talk_ with her.

"No, I can't. Maybe the next time, I don't feel very well today."

"What's wrong?" asked Diego, concerned. It was unusual for her to fall asleep as she did the night before.

"Oh, nothing specific. I am just tired. Don't worry, enjoy the ride" she said, turning around to go back to the house. Half way on, she turned to face them again. "Behave yourself, don't overdo it" she warned with her finger pointing at her husband. Diego laughed while mounting up the saddle, shaking his head.

"After your warning I wouldn't dare, _querida_. I am not that brave. See you later." He spurred his horse and they trotted away, followed by Felipe and his pinto.

ZZZ

To Diego's surprise, Felipe was right. There was only one body at the bottom of the ravine, where it should have been two.

"I don't understand. I could see two bodies there less than a week ago" he said, scratching the back of his neck, looking down from the ravine's edge.

"_So, what should we do?_" signed Felipe.

"We have to find a way to go down to check what happened. It is hard to believe a man could have survived that fall. Sure the Russian cannot be alive after all this time…" he muttered, but he started to have the unsettling feeling that was precisely the case.

They mounted back on their horses and rode downstream for a couple of miles, closer to the spot where it was possible to come down the canyon to cross the river. Leaving the horses tied up to a thick branch, they continued on foot following the stream toward the spot where the bodies were, two miles upstream from there. All the way up, Diego scrutinized the ground looking for clues.

"There, look!" he exclaimed, pointing to a distinctive set of human prints in the soft ground on the river bank. The prints where heading downstream, to the point where they had entered the canyon. Felipe signed again.

"Could it be someone who has come to bury the body? I don't know, maybe. Let's go further up to find out."

Diego frowned because he could not see any other foot prints heading up. Their own prints were clearly visible behind them, so it looked like nobody had come upstream before them, only down. As the canyon walls grew taller and the passage narrowed, they had difficulty to climb up some of the water jumps along the wet large stones. They had been struggling for a while and were about to give up, when suddenly, they spotted the first body lying on the river bank. It was greatly decomposed, and stunk so much they had to cover their faces with their sleeves. Vladimir's body wasn't there, and there were no signs of a burial in the area. What they could find was a pile of human waste further up, and remains of a fire place with some fish backbones lying by. They also found a small cave that could have been used for shelter, and an incongruous but convenient apple tree growing at the bottom of the gorge, with a large amount of ripe apples covering the ground.

"I'll be damned. He did survive" said Diego, looking up to the edge, a long distance away, whistling with admiration. "Who would have thought that was possible? Well, we can see he had cooked fish and lots of apples to survive, and plenty of fresh water. I guess he left his coat on the ground so nobody would suspect he was alive, but I don't know with what purpose." Felipe signed, finishing drawing a Z in the air. "Revenge? From Zorro? Possibly…Maybe he was afraid I would come down here to kill him if I knew he had survived. But, on the other hand, the other bounty hunters would have helped him if they knew he was alive. Nobody bothered because we didn't think it was possible to survive the fall. Let's go back home, we know all we need to know from here."

"_Where is he now_?" signed Felipe.

"I don't know. That's the next thing we need to find out, but not here. Come on" he said, covering his face again when he passed close to the cadaver on his way down. He considered the unpleasant task to bury such a decomposed body, but he decided against it, because they didn't have the tools and the stench was unbearable.

ZZZ

"Mother, I need to talk to you, please" said Cristina shortly after her arrival at the Blasco's Hacienda, which she had reached driving the small carriage. She was sitting down in an armchair in the main room, opposite to Doña María Luisa, quite exhausted after the trip.

"What is it about, dear?"

"Is it normal for a woman to feel very tired and nauseous… when she is pregnant?"

"Yes, it is, I was sick several times… but… wait. What do you mean? Are you? Are you pregnant?" she asked, all excited.

"I think I may be. I don't feel well. I am very weak and tired and can hardly eat anything… Food stinks. My period is late. And my breasts are huge, and painful." Doña María Luisa stood up and hugged her daughter enthusiastically.

"You are definitely pregnant, my dear! The stinky food, the nausea and the swollen breasts are always a giveaway" she laughed. "The good news is that the nausea usually goes away later on during the pregnancy. You will feel better when you are four or five months pregnant. I guess you must be… what? Less than two months far?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. Cristina blushed. She got married two months ago, and her mother was assuming she waited for the wedding night.

"Yes, mother, we waited. Everything was _proper_, don't worry. Diego is a gentleman."

"Of course he is, dear. But, he was sick for so long after he was shot… And you were sick yourself the day after the wedding…"

"Yes, I know, it must have been a _first time lucky_ event." They both giggled.

ZZZ

Cristina had just returned to the Hacienda De la Vega when Diego and Felipe arrived back from their visit to the ravine. Diego dismounted and went into the house while Felipe waited outside with the horses.

"Cristina, I have unsettling news. The Cossack bounty hunter that I pushed into the ravine survived the fall. He is alive" he said, bluntly, because he didn't know how to make the shocking news any more palatable.

"What? Alive? That's impossible" she dismissed, shaking her head. "I saw him bouncing off the wall twice on his way down, and I heard the noise of the cracked bones when he hit the bottom. He cannot be alive."

"Well, he is" said Diego, lifting his palms up. "Unbelievable, but true."

"Where is he now?" she asked, anxiety settling in quickly.

"I don't know. Looking for Zorro, probably. I have to find out."

"You are not going out as Zorro while that killer is looking for him, are you?"

"No, don't worry. Just as myself" he replied, quickly walking outside to get back to his horse. He galloped away followed by Felipe before Cristina had the chance to tell him her exciting news.

ZZZ

"Ignacio, I am telling you: the Russian is alive."

"Don't be ridiculous, Diego. That's impossible" replied the Alcalde, sitting down in his high chair at his desk, which still had the huge "Z" Zorro had carved at the top a few months ago. "Nobody can survive that fall."

"I know, but he did. He is not there at the bottom, where he used to be. There is only one body lying there. We checked" said Diego, involving Felipe in the conversation.

"And what do you care if he is alive or not, anyway?" De Soto sniggered. Diego looked at him quite cross. Of course he cared. Right now, the Russian was probably looking for his other self to kill him. "Unless you are scared… Are you?" laughed De Soto.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am. I don't want to be shot again. Once is enough."

"Vladimir has no reason to shoot you, has he?"

"Neither had the German, and he did," complained Diego. "And, I was not supposed to survive; nobody thought I would, and I did. It is the same with the Russian. He has survived against all odds."

"Oh, that reminds me… Aren't you supposed to be in jail? I told you duelling is illegal. You killed a man, and that should be punished" he said, stroking his beard, pondering if he should get his schoolmate in jail or not, now that he had recovered.

"I hope you are joking, Ignacio. But it's not funny, not at all" replied Diego, raising his voice, quite upset now. Felipe retreated to a corner, willing to disappear.

"I am not joking" said De Soto firmly, looking at Diego with cold eyes because he didn't like his harsh tone. _De la Vega looks all cocky after his encounter with the German, all of a sudden a strong-willed man_. "The law should be the same for everybody, no exceptions." Diego laughed at his words.

"That's certainly funny, coming from you."

"That's it now. You asked for it. Mendozaaaaaaa!" he shouted. The Sergeant came quickly into the office.

"Si, mi Alcalde?"

"Mendoza, take Don Diego to jail, please" ordered De Soto, calmly.

"You cannot be serious!" shouted Diego, stamping his fist on the desk. "I come here to warm you about the danger of having a killer on the loose again, and you come up with this. Unbelievable!"

"Of course I am serious. You are going to stay in jail for a while. That will teach you. Sergeant, take him away." Mendoza hesitated, swinging nervously, switching his weight form foot to foot.

"But, mi Alcalde… I don't think Don Diego should…"

"Mendoza! You are not supposed to _think_, just do as you are told! Take Don Diego to a cell. NOW!" barked the alcalde.

"I am sorry, Don Diego, but I have to take you in" Mendoza apologized with a pathetic voice.

"Don't worry, just do your job, Sergeant" said Diego, walking slowly to the back door, followed by Mendoza. "Felipe, tell my father what happened" he said while signing: _bring the horse tonight_. Diego heard De Soto sniggering behind him but he didn't turn around to face him, just clenched his fists in frustration on his way out. This time, Zorro would have to get himself out of jail.

ZZZ

"The Alcalde has done what?" asked Don Alejandro, enraged. Felipe signed again, in case he hadn't understood the first time, but he had. "How dare he, that slimy snake, son of a…" he ranted while getting ready to go, collecting his riding gloves, shaking them at the ghosts in the air while shouting all sort of insults.

"What's wrong, Don Alejandro?" asked Cristina, alarmed by all that yelling.

"The Alcalde has got Diego in jail because of the duel! Inconceivable!" he shouted. "He nearly died then, for Christ sake! He didn't choose to get involved with that bloody German!"

"Are you going to see him now? Can I go with you? I need to tell him something."

"Yes, of course. Let's go!" he said, heading for the door.

"Can we go in the carriage, please?"

"Why? Riding will be faster" he said, perplexed. He knew Cristina was an accomplished rider, and she seemed to enjoy riding. "I thought you were healed. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I am, but…" she didn't want to tell him yet, she wanted to tell the father first. "Oh, well, I'll tell you why, you are going to find out very soon, anyway. But I wanted Diego to be the first one to know. I guess it doesn't matter."

"What is it?" asked Don Alejandro, getting worried now.

"I am pregnant."

"Pregnant? Really? That's wonderful, congratulations!" he said, changing moods in an instant. He hugged and kissed her, laughing. "Felipe! Get the carriage ready. She is pregnant!" Felipe smiled widely and hugged Cristina too before heading for the stables.

"Are you all right? Sure?"

"Yes, I am fine, but I feel quite tired and I don't want to ride."

"Yes, of course, don't worry. You are right, it will be better if you don't ride." He was over the moon, and could not stop smiling. "A grandchild. I am going to be an _abuelo_!"

"Yes, you are" laughed Cristina.

"And Diego doesn't know?" Cristina shook her head. "My son is going to be a father and he is in jail!" he shouted, changing his mood again. "Come on. Let's get him out of there."

ZZZ

Vladimir walked into the Alcalde's office without knocking at the door, just flung it open as if he owned the place.

"Good afternoon, Alcalde" he said to the man at the desk. Startled, De Soto threw the papers he was reading in the air when he stood up with a jump.

"You! It is true, you are alive!" he exclaimed in awe. If Diego had not warned him about it beforehand, he would have thought the Russian was a ghost. He looked emaciated, with large dark circles under his tired eyes, dry scorched skin and cracked lips.

"Yes, I am alive. Who told you that?"

"Diego de la Vega. But it doesn't matter who, does it? What happened to you? We thought you died by falling in the ravine."

"I didn't fall. Zorro pushed me. And he is going to pay for it. And the other one, the one who killed my brother. That one will pay too. Has Zorro been captured yet?"

"No, he is still out there. How did you survive the fall?"

"I was unconscious for a while. Don't know for how long, at least a couple of days, I guess. I had several broken bones, multiple injuries, and I couldn't move. I cried for help many times, but then I realized I had to get out of there myself, no one was coming to my rescue."

"I told you, everybody thought you were dead. There was no need for a rescue party."

"Which day is today?" he asked, looking around him, confused. The alcalde told him.

"Don't worry, you only missed a couple of months, it is still 1820" chuckled De Soto.

"Where is Karl? And the rest of the men? I went to your house, but nobody was there." He had forced the door and had stayed in the Alcalde's empty property for a day, resting after the effort of coming out of the gorge. While he was there, he checked that the metal box he and his brother had buried nearby –which contained money and some personal belongings– was still there. Living with men of dubious reputation had made them very cautious, and they always hid their valuables away while on a job. In this case, it turned out to be an excellent idea, because otherwise, the other bounty hunters would have taken everything when they thought the brothers were dead, never to be seen again.

"Karl is dead, and the others left Los Angeles. Well, I guess you don't know the whole story at all, do you?"

"No, tell me. What happened?"

"Your boss went crazy. He attacked everybody in the pueblo. He maimed Don Francisco at the party, beat the Italian… then shot the doctor…"

"That Italian, what did he look like?" interrupted the Russian.

"Thin, tall, dark hair. Dressed with a blue waistcoat, brown hat…"

"That's him! That's the man who killed my brother, the one who came jumping over the ravine to help Zorro. Where is he now?" he demanded to know.

"I don't know. Damn! He was Zorro's accomplice after all! He was in jail, but he escaped; Zorro helped him out. Karl was right!" The Alcalde started pacing around the room, greatly irritated remembering the lost opportunity. "We haven't seen him since. Maybe he is dead, Karl nearly drowned him, and I am quite sure he broke his ribs badly. He could hardly breathe." He continued pacing around, thinking aloud. "Now that I think about it, nobody has seen Zorro since, either."

"He was injured. Before he pushed me into the ravine, I sank my sword in his left arm, right to the bone. He should have a large scar there, or he may have lost the arm all together. Or he may even be dead. Down at the ravine, while my bones were healing, I had a lot of time to think, and now I have a plan to unmask him. All we need to do is to check every man in the territory, make a list and have them one by one showing us their left arm, and we'll find him."

"That's an excellent idea. That may work!" exclaimed De Soto, excited. "I can use the official census list for that" he said, sitting down at his desk again, searching in the middle drawer.

"You still haven't told me who killed Karl, or how."

"Your boss challenged Diego de la Vega to a shooting duel. Apparently, De la Vega blew his head off with a lucky shot. Karl shot him first, and he nearly died too." Vladimir looked confused.

"You mention that name before. You said that De la Vega told you I was alive before anybody knew."

"That's right. What a coincidence." De Soto's brain was on fire by then with all the intense thinking. Smoke could have come out of his ears. "De la Vega… no, it can't be…There it is" he said, waiving the list.

"Where is that De la Vega?" asked the Cossack. "He must be a very skilled fighter to be able to kill Karl Jäger."

"Actually, he is in jail because duelling is illegal. How ironic!" laughed De Soto. "And he is not a fighter. Or a shooter. I saw him practicing before the duel and he couldn't hit the target, he was pathetic. His guardian angel must have been aiming his gun at your boss, or it was just plain luck that he hit him at all."

"I want to see him. I want to see that man."

"Very well, let's go" conceded De Soto, quite intrigued by his intentions, heading for the back door.

When they stepped into the patio, Vladimir heard a distinctive loud neigh, coming from the stables.

"That's my horse. Do you have my horse, alcalde?"

De Soto fidgeted, nervous. The lancers had found the Cossack horses wandering around the country side a couple of days after their owners had _died_ at the ravine. De Soto was particularly fond of Vladimir's, and didn't want to give him away. With that horse, he knew he could be able to outrun Toronado.

"Eh… No… You must be mistaken. Stop! Where are you going?" he cried, following the Russian, who was heading for the stables with a purposeful stride, ignoring him. Getting there, he pointed to the lean, long, beautiful chestnut horse whose coat was smooth and shiny, and was reflecting the sun light coming through the roof with an almost metallic sheen.

"That's my horse." The expression in his face, together with the hand resting in the hilt of his Cossack sword, made the alcalde give up on any intentions to keep the horse. "And that's my brother's."

"Are they? Are you sure? We found them lost in the northern territory" chirped the alcalde.

"Yes. Sure." Vladimir was not going to argue. "You can keep my brother's, I don't need it. Where is the saddle?"

"Let me see… Mendozaaaaaaa!" DeSoto sighed, relieved. At least he could keep one.

ZZZ

Diego was sitting in a distant corner in his cell, trying to detach himself from the situation, keeping his mind empty in relaxation, with his head down. He didn't notice the visitors coming in until the Alcalde called him.

"Diego de la Vega, you have one visitor" he sniggered. "Get up!"

"What?" said Diego, lifting his head.

"You! You are the man we whacked at the tavern!" exclaimed the Russian. Diego blinked in disbelief and stood up, coming a bit closer to the bars, but still keeping some distance.

"And you are supposed to be dead," he replied.

Vladimir looked at him intently. He was tall like Zorro, and he had seen him knocking down a tough man with a powerful punch. He also remembered seeing that man galloping away on a horse, and he was an excellent rider. And on top of that, he had defeated one of the most skilled and cruel gunmen he had ever met on a shooting duel. He had to be Zorro. His eyes narrowed to a thin line, when he ordered with a glacial tone:

"Show me your left arm, close to your shoulder." Diego didn't move, so surprised by this command he just stood still, frozen.

"Do you really think he is Zorro?" asked De Soto. "I know; there are too many coincidences, but… I don't think so."

Vladimir drew his gun, and extended his arm through the bars, aiming at Diego.

"Show me your arm. Now!" he demanded.

"See, Alcalde? That's what I was talking about before. You said he didn't have a reason to shoot me. Apparently, everybody has one," complained Diego, with his hands up. De Soto was looking at both men, alternating between them, puzzled by the situation.

"All right, Diego. Show us your arm and I can tick you off the list. Come on, it will only take a minute" he asked gently, trying to defuse the tension.

Diego knew he didn't have a choice. Praying for the concealer to be still in place, he started to undo his shirt slowly, his eyes fixed on the gun. Half way down the row of buttons, he just pulled from his right sleeve to reveal his right shoulder and upper arm.

"The other arm!" growled the Russian.

"_Damn. He remembers well_" thought Diego. He put the shirt back over his shoulder again, and pulled from the other sleeve, revealing his left shoulder, without looking at it. He didn't dare, unable to look away from the gun, like a frozen prey looking at its hunter. He thought he was about to see the flash coming out from the gun, just before the bullet would hit him, the same way as it had happened when Karl shot him.

"I told you he wasn't Zorro," said the Alcalde. Diego looked at his arm. He could just see the scar showing through the concealer, but they probably could not see it from the distance.

"Come closer," ordered the Russian. Diego only walked a couple of steps toward them, but turned slightly so they could see his shoulder better.

"Why do you want to see my shoulder?" he asked, playing ignorance.

"Zorro should have a large scar there, on his left arm," said the Alcalde.

"But I don't."

"We can see that. Shall we go now?" he asked to the Russian, who was still aiming at Diego, unconvinced.

"How did you know I was alive?"

"Felipe realized there was only one body at the bottom of the ravine. I keep telling him not to go near that place because it is dangerous, but teenagers are not very good at listening. I guess he was fascinated looking at the dead men from above," explained Diego, trying to be casual, while he repositioned his shirt and buttoned up.

Vladimir pulled out his gun through the bars, and walked away, shooting a last glacial look at Diego, who sighed deeply when they left. He sat down again at the distant corner, shaking, his knees feeling very weak this time. "_Thank God for Cristina and her aversion to scars!_"

ZZZ

Cristina had been allowed to visit Diego while Don Alejandro tried to convince the Alcalde to release his son. Alone in the empty jail space –because Mendoza had been so tactful to leave the room after guiding her there from the office– they could hear the loud shouting through the thick walls.

"The Russian is really alive, he was here. He came to check on my arm, aiming his gun at me. He and the Alcalde are looking for a man with a scar in his left arm. They are planning to check everybody in Los Angeles. Thank God that paste I used yesterday just to please you was still covering it. That was so lucky, thank you" said Diego.

"I will come later as Leonardo to get you out of here" she offered.

"No. Don't do that. You killed his brother, remember? Sure he is looking for the Italian too. Please, don't" he begged extremely anxious, grabbing the cell bars so tight his knuckles turned white. She never listened to him, and he was in no position to physically stop her now.

"All right then, I won't. Anyway, I've not been feeling well for the last few days, I am so tired and weak."

"Go now and see doctor Hernández then, please."

"I don't think he can do anything about it, Diego. Apparently, it is normal in my condition" she said, with a radiant smile. "I am pregnant."

"What?" He could not believe it, speechless with the unexpected news. "So soon? How?" he managed to babble out in the end.

"You know _how_," she laughed. "It must have been that awkward first time, before the duel. You have to be so efficient at everything you do, don't you?" He reached for her through the bars, caressing her face, his obvious joy shinning in his eyes.

"That's wonderful news, _mi amor_, I am so happy. Now, you have to take care of yourself. No more stunts, please. Tell Felipe to forget about the plan, don't do anything tonight. I'll stay here for a few days until the Alcalde gets bored waiting for Zorro, who is not going to show up. I'll be fine, don't worry." He reached for her hand and kissed it, but that was not enough for her. She came closer to the bars and reached for his mouth, kissing him as if it was the last time she would ever see him, squeezing his hand tightly. He passed his other arm through the bars to embrace her, drawing her even closer.

De Soto came into the jail while they were oblivious to the world, followed by Don Alejandro. The Alcalde cleared his throat loudly when he spotted them.

"_Señora_, get away from the prisoner, if you please" he ordered. She pulled away from the bars, still maintaining contact holding hands, but the alcalde came between the couple, pushing her gently away until she reluctantly let go of Diego's hand.

"My wife just told me I am going to be a father" announced Diego, proudly. "I hope I will be out of here by then."

"Congratulations" mumbled the alcalde, unsympathetic. "We'll see about that. Your father here is giving me a royal headache."

"I am going to Monterey to see the Governor" he started again, waving his gloves behind the Alcalde. "You'll see, you'll see…I…"

"I had enough of that!" shouted De Soto, holding his hand up while rolling his eyes, not turning to face Don Alejandro, as if ignoring him. Then, he remembered something, and smiled showing his front teeth maliciously. "By the way, Zorro was injured in his left arm while fighting with Vladimir at the ravine" he said, turning around to face the old don. "Can I see your arm, please? I am planning to check everybody in the territory. I already checked your son's, although that was completely unnecessary; no way on Earth he could be Zorro," he sniggered. Cristina had to look away covering her smile with her hand, supressing a giggle.

"My arm? What the…?"

"Yes, your arm. I am looking for a large scar there," he said, pointing at the spot. "Can you please remove your shirt so I can have a look?"

"This is preposterous! No way I am going to agree to that stupid game! You have no right to…" he went on and on ranting again, shaking the gloves as a maraca.

"Father please, just do it and get out of here. And take Cristina to the doctor before you head home. Please."

Don Alejandro stopped complaining and pulled off his tie with a furious tag. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt and waistcoat. "The Governor will know about this too," he warned, when he finally uncovered his left shoulder and upper arm. De Soto came closer to inspect the area, unsurprised when he didn't find any markings there.

"So what? It is called _initiative_, De la Vega. Something quite necessary around here. Get out of my sight now!" he ordered, pointing to the door. Don Alejandro readjusted his shirt loosely and put his waistcoat back on, not bothering with the buttons yet, and headed for the door.

"Come, Cristina. Let's go to see doctor Hernández. See you soon, son."

She followed him, blowing a kiss to Diego on her way out. "_Hasta luego" _she whispered. He waved to her through the bars.

"Bye now, take care."

De Soto shook his head closing the door behind them, leaving Diego alone. All that tender display of affection made him sick. And jealous, as well.

ZZZZZ


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 23 – Searching for an injured arm**

Following orders, Sergeant Mendoza placed a ban in the plaza, ordering all the men in the territory to attend a compulsory physical examination. For the next few days there was a crowd waiting outside the alcalde's office, buzzing around like bees, to have their left arms checked by De Soto or the Russian. Mendoza sat at a small table, in charge of the tedious task of ticking off the names from the alcalde's list. And, in the meantime, Diego was still locked up in jail.

"Thank you, Felipe" said Diego, collecting his daily basket of food through the bars. He didn't like the food provided in jail, but the exchange was mainly a good excuse to keep in touch. "Did you bring some…?" he asked, lowering his voice because Sepúlveda was lurking just a few meters away from them. Felipe nodded. He usually hid a small amount of the concealer paste in the food, to be reapplied on Diego's scar in case the Russian decided to have a look again. Vladimir was frustrated because he was making no progress with the search outside, and he still had the naggingfeeling that the perfect candidate to fit Zorro's description was Diego de la Vega, although the alcalde didn't seem to share this opinion. There were only a few more men to check that afternoon, and then, with his plan an epic fail, he would be in the same position as before: not having a clue about Zorro's identity.

"How is Cristina? Is she all right?" Felipe made a gesture, as if pretending to vomit. "She was sick today, ah?" Diego started pacing about, like a wild animal in a tiny cage. "I should be home with her, rather than wasting my days here!" shouted Diego, banging his fist on the bars. The soldier looked at him and tut-tutted, shaking his head as a warning. Felipe, careful to position himself at the right angle to obstruct the lancer's view, drew a Z in the air, so only Diego could see it.

"Maybe" he whispered, stroking his growing beard. "But I will need to shave first" Felipe nodded, smiling. He didn't like how unkempt Diego looked, after only one week in jail.

"Corporal Sepúlveda," called Diego, "can Felipe bring a few things so I can wash and shave? Staying in this jail undignifies, it is a total nuisance. I can't keep my appearance" he complained, as the wimpy caballero he was pretending to be would do in a major life crisis, like that one.

"I guess so, Don Diego. I don't think you are going to kill yourself or try to attack us with the razor, are you?" he chuckled. "But, just in case, I will ask the Alcalde first," he said, leaving the jail space. When they were left alone, Diego kept instructing Felipe.

"Come back again later with that stuff, and… you know… the other stuff. No need to bring Toronado this time; Zorro is just going to visit the alcalde, and convince him to free Diego de la Vega."

"_How are you planning to_ _escape?_" signed Felipe.

"Bring Zorro's clothes, and the poisoned darts. You'll neutralize the guards here; then you can open the door for me with that key" he suggested, pointing to the key ring hanging in the wall, "and while you stay inside the cell on my bed pretending to be me, asleep, I'll have a little chat with De Soto. Easy!" He smiled, slapping Felipe's shoulder through the bars.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro wrote a letter to the governor and the magistrates in Monterey, complaining about the situation, because Diego had really acted in self-defence. It was a risky thing to do, because he was admitting that his son had taken part in a duel, which officially was –as De Soto had pointed out so clearly– illegal. But duelling was still a common practice in the territory, as it was in the rest of the civilized world, and most authorities would turn a blind eye to these episodes. The main reason to ban duelling was to avoid unnecessary casualties in the army, among the officers and the rest of the troops, when the men would kill each other for the most ridiculous questions of honour rather than fight together against the enemy. And, duelling also served another purpose for non-skilled people: to have someone else to take the blame for the killing. Banning the duels was the way to avoid the risk of having wealthy caballeros paying thugs to kill their enemies under any pretences of discredited honour, rather than doing the job themselves.

Don Alejandro wanted to travel to Monterey himself, but he decided it would take him too long, and he didn't want to abandon his son in jail. Besides, even if her parents lived closed by, he felt he had the duty to take care of Cristina while her husband was locked up.

ZZZ

That afternoon, Mendoza ticked off the last name in the council census list. "That was the last one, mi Alcalde" he announced. De Soto and Vladimir looked at each other.

"Your brilliant plan wasn't that brilliant, after all" said the alcalde, tired and annoyed after the long days spent looking at so many arms.

"It should have worked" said the Russian, also very annoyed. "Maybe Zorro had the time to cover the scar, somehow. Or maybe he is dead. Or he is not in your useless list."

"Well, anybody had the time to cover the scar. Anybody but the De la Vegas, because you looked at them before the ban was in place" said Mendoza. "They are the only ones who didn't know beforehand you were going to check their arms."

"Shut up, Mendoza! Nobody is asking your opinion" snapped the alcalde, but he realized the dumb soldier was right.

"Yes, De la Vega. I still think he is the best candidate to be Zorro" said Vladimir. The other two men laughed at this idea.

"You keep saying that, but… No, that's impossible!" De Soto sneered.

"I want to have a look at him again. A closer look" said Vladimir, menacing.

"Suit yourself," said De Soto, pointing to the door, "but it will be a waste of time." De Soto and Mendoza followed the Russian to the jail, quite curious.

"De la Vega!" called Vladimir. "I need to have a look at your arm again. Come closer."

"Why?" asked Diego, standing up. He was very confident this time because he had just applied another layer of concealer, and the scar was impossible to see. "Don't tell me that after all this effort you haven't found Zorro yet," he mocked, pretending to be concerned.

"No, we haven't. And I really think that _you _are Zorro."

"_Me_?" laughed Diego, shaking his head, his uncombed fringe falling over his blue eyes. "Me? Jumping from the roofs… handling a sword as he does… riding on Toronado? I wish I could do that!"

"I keep telling him that notion is ridiculous, but, he wants to see your arm again. Come closer to the bars this time, please," ordered De Soto, suppressing a chuckle at his mental picture of clumsy Diego jumping from the roofs. He would probably break his ankles, or dislocate his shoulder yet again by hitting the ground face first.

As he did before, Diego unbuttoned his shirt to uncover his left shoulder, coming very close to the bars this time. Vladimir looked at him, annoyed because the skin seemed undamaged.

"Just for comparison, this is the scar your boss left me, from the gunshot wound" said Diego, lifting his shirt up to show him his abdomen. It was a fresh scar below his ribs, healed but still quite red and angry looking. "My arm doesn't look like this, does it?"

The Russian turned around, upset by the mockery in Diego's voice, and left the jail and the garrison without uttering another word.

When De Soto and Mendoza where coming out from the cells they saw Felipe, who came in with the shaving tools, soap and foam for Diego.

"Felipe, Corporal Sepúlveda told me about this. You are right: that man needs some help, he looks very scruffy for his usual self" laughed DeSoto. "Do us all a favour and sort him out, please."

Sepúlveda opened the cell door to Felipe. While he applied the foam to shave Diego's beard, they talked to each other by sign language.

"_I have your clothes hidden under mine. The boots, the hat and the weapons are hidden on the roof" _signed Felipe.

"_Did you bring the darts?_" signed Diego.

"_Yes, they are there_" said Felipe, pointing to one of the pots.

"What are you doing?" asked the corporal, suspicious with all that waving.

"You know Felipe is deaf. We communicate by sign language. He can't read my lips with all this shaving foam on my face" said Diego, casually, and carried on signing, and whispering: _"I need to remove the concealer from the arm before I go, so the alcalde gets convinced once and for all that I am not Zorro."_

When Felipe had finished shaving Diego, Sepúlveda opened the cell door so the young man could come out.

"Corporal, I think you have a mice problem here. Look" said Diego, distracting the soldier so Felipe could throw a dart to his rear end, unnoticed.

"What? Where?" asked the soldier coming closer, scratching his bottom, which suddenly was a bit itchy. He fell to the ground shortly after, asleep.

"Well done Felipe" said Diego, dragging the soldier out of the cell, positioning his body on the chair, as if he was having a siesta. "It looks like the paralyzing darts have become an invaluable weapon for Zorro to sneak in and out of jail" he chuckled. Then he removed his clothes, washed out the concealer paste from his arm, and changed into Zorro's black clothes, including the mask but not the hat, which was still on the roof.

"Lie down in my cot, and cover yourself well with the blanket. I'll close the cell door again, just in case any other soldiers show up. Pretend to be asleep if anybody calls you," instructed Diego. "It won't take long, hopefully." Felipe nodded and took his place under the blanket while Zorro came out through the window to climb up onto the roof. He put the boots and the hat on, and grabbed his weapons, heading for the opening at the Alcalde's office ceiling.

ZZZ

"Thank God that Russian is gone. He gets on my nerves. And he is crazy. Can you imagine, Diego de la Vega as Zorro?" laughed De Soto, talking to Mendoza, who also laughed at the notion.

Zorro sneaked through the opening, landing silently behind the alcalde.

"I am not Diego de la Vega!" he shouted. De Soto jumped away from him in fear.

"Zorro! What are you doing here?" cried the alcalde when he turned around to encounter Zorro's sword aiming at his throat. Mendoza placed his hand on his own sword's hilt, but he shrugged and put his hands up when Zorro let out a tutting sound.

"Alcalde! I am just making your life easier. I thought you were looking for me, but you could not find me" Zorro sneered. "And, of course, I am not that wimpy De la Vega, but I don't like to see him in jail just because he behaved like a man for once in his whole life. Let him go" he ordered, getting the sharp pointy end even closer to the alcalde. "Besides, I heard he is going to be a father, he should be with his wife."

"I was going to let him go. I only wanted to teach him a lesson because he is becoming quite arrogant since the duel," said De Soto, trying in vain to retreat from Zorro's sword.

"Do I have your word? Are you setting him free?"

"Yes! Yes! Get that sword away from me!" cried De Soto. He sighed and relaxed when Zorro lowered his weapon, which he held down with his left hand. It was a short relief, because De Soto tensed up again when Zorro leaned forward.

"By the way… look, Alcalde, that's what you were looking for" said Zorro, pulling down his black shirt to uncover his left shoulder, showing his scar.

"So you _do_ have a scar!" said De Soto, amazed, coming even closer to look at it. A black gloved fist found his jaw before he had the time to examine it better, when Zorro delivered an impressive right hook.

"Ouch! That hurt!" complained Zorro, shaking his right hand in the air several times, while biting his lower lip. All that convalescence and the lack of action had really made him much weaker. Mendoza chuckled looking at De Soto sprawled on the floor. When Zorro advanced his way with intention, he quickly lifted his hands in the air again.

"Not me, Zorro, please!" cried Mendoza, turning his face away from him, with eyes shut with fear.

"I am not going to hurt you, Sergeant, but you are in my way" said Zorro, moving the lancer gently aside to open the door, disappearing through it.

"Thank you, Zorro" squeaked Mendoza, sighing deeply, wiping off his forehead. He looked at the Alcalde with some concern, but he could not suppress another amused chuckle before he kneeled down to help him.

ZZZ

Cristina was not having a good time. She felt nauseous all the time now, not only in the mornings, and had been sick twice today. Pregnancy was not agreeing with her. People usually would say that pregnant women show a certain "glow" in their faces, but hers, if anything, was becoming a shade of green. Besides, other troubles –such as being in a state worried about Diego in jail, and the anxiety she felt about the Russian menace coming back from his grave– were not helping her frazzle.

"Are you sure I will feel better in a few weeks?" she asked her mother. "I don't think I can carry on like this for several months," she complained.

"Yes, you'll be fine, dear. Something similar happened to me" assured Doña María Luisa. She knew of other women who stayed like that for the whole of their pregnancies, but she didn't want to alarm her daughter even more with that grim possibility.

"If only Diego could be here… I missed him," she sobbed. When she saw her mother's compassionate look, she wiped away the tears, deeply ashamed of her own frailty.

"The Governor in Monterey will get Alejandro's letter and Diego will be out of jail soon. Don't worry, dear." Doña María Luisa squeezed her daughter's hand gently.

"Thank you," whispered Cristina.

ZZZ

"Gosh, that felt so good, Felipe" said Diego while changing back into his clothes, after applying another few layers of concealer on his scar. "But my hand hurts now; I hope I didn't break it." He was having trouble buttoning up his shirt. "I left all the stuff on the roof again. Take it only if you can do it safely; otherwise leave it there for later." Felipe nodded, coming out of the cell with the shaving tools.

"One more thing," said Diego. "Hit me with one of the darts, so they will find me asleep here. That will teach me what my victims feel when I shoot them. Around here, that will do" he said, pointing to his chest. Felipe took one of the darts carefully, and blew it towards Diego through the little pipe.

"I hardly felt it. But it is a bit tingly now" said Diego, sitting down on the floor, in the middle of the cell. "Oh, yes, it is very fast. I feel so weak now… I don't think I…" He stopped talking, and he slumped to the ground shortly after, asleep. Felipe smiled at the sight of his mentor sprawled on the cell's floor, snoring softly. He closed the door, hanging the key back on the wall, and came out through the back door. Nobody was around, so he carefully climbed on the roof as he had done before, hid the items back in a blanket, which he placed again over his pinto's saddle, and headed back to the Hacienda de la Vega.

ZZZ

De Soto moved his nose away from the smelling salts, moaning. Confused, with his eyes still shut, he waved his hands wildly, slapping Mendoza's face.

"Ouch!" complained the Sergeant, backing off. He dropped the alcalde's head from his lap back to the floor, with a loud thud.

"Zorro!" cried the alcalde, opening his eyes, suddenly aware of the situation. "Where is he?"

"He is gone, mi Alcalde."

De Soto touched gently his jaw, which was turning purple already, afraid it could be fractured. "He was really here, I didn't dream this. That son of a… And he really _has_ a scar! Where is he hiding? Where does he live?!" he ranted, enraged. Helped by Mendoza, he stood up and, quite unsteadily, headed for the jail. The first thing he saw, on entering, was corporal Sepúlveda asleep in his chair. Immensely cross, he shook the corporal by his shoulder.

"Sepúlveda! Wake up! You are on duty, for Christ sake! No time for a siesta!" he shouted. The soldier's body, out of balance now, fell on the floor like a rag doll, not disturbed in his sleep in the slightest. "Oh, no. It's the damn darts again!" cursed De Soto, clenching his fists.

"Don Diego seems to be asleep too" pointed out Mendoza, looking at his cell.

"Why would Zorro get Diego unconscious? It doesn't make sense. He could have set him free instead, if that was his purpose."

"I don't know, mi Alcalde, maybe he hit Don Diego by accident, but Sepúlveda here is not waking up with the salts," said Mendoza, moving the little bottle under the corporal's nose, without a reaction. He also tried to revive Diego, with the same result.

"Well, it looks like whatever drug Zorro uses, won't let them wake up so easily. That… manipulative… meddler… rotten scoundrel!" shouted the Alcalde, throwing a tantrum on his way back to the office, kicking the walls along the way.

ZZZZZ


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 24 – The Prize**

Cristina was delighted when Diego came back home that evening. He was extremely pleased to finally be home too, after successfully eluding to be exposed as Zorro. He was also greatly relieved to be able to support his wife while she was having trouble with her pregnancy. To keep her calmed and relaxed, and minimize the chances of a miscarriage, he promised he would not go out as Zorro while the Russian was around, although he knew that would be a difficult promise to keep, because Zorro was needed quite often thanks to the alcalde's wicked ways.

For the next few weeks the Russian kept busy looking for Zorro, who was busy as well avoiding him at all costs. Despite his promise to Cristina, Diego still went out as Zorro from time to time because Toronado needed the fresh air and exercise. He had engaged in minor conflicts without her knowledge, always steering clear of the pueblo. A couple of times, he got too close to the Russian, but he had managed to escape without problems.

Weeks turned quickly into months, and Vladimir's frustration slowly built up to reach epic proportions. At this point, he could resort to anything to hunt Zorro down and move on with his life.

"Alcalde, you must think of a way to get Zorro out in the open," said Vladimir, talking to De Soto at his office. "He has been avoiding any compromising situations for too long. He is not chasing bandits or helping the peasants as he used to do, the coward. I have only seen him twice and never close enough to get him. He always vanishes into thin air. Think of a trap, something he could not refuse to get involved with, even if he knows it is a trick to capture him. Something so outrageous that can make him come to the pueblo. I can't live in this hole of a place for ever, waiting for a chance to do _your_ job."

"What do you want me to do? Flog everybody in the pueblo, even women and children?" asked De Soto, uncomfortable with the Russian's demands.

"Maybe, if that gets him here."

"You are crazy. I can't do that" said De Soto. No, he could not do that. That kind of abuse would be reported immediately to Monterey, and he was still embarrassed with the warning he received after he got Diego de la Vega in jail. Don Alejandro was very well connected, and his friends were powerful. Besides, De Soto wasn't such a heartless maniac as the German had been.

"Maybe not everybody, then. Think of something. It could be a lottery, for example. Get a few random names and menace to flog them unless Zorro gives himself up, or someone gives us a clue of his identity."

"A lottery. And the winner gets… flogged" said De Soto, stroking his beard slowly. "Interesting idea, but, too risky. I can't flog innocent people like that."

"Someone out there is not innocent. Someone out there knows who Zorro is, and has been helping him all along. They are not "innocent people". They support Zorro; they help him; they cheer him up whenever he shows his dastard masked face. Someone has to talk, by any means. As soon as possible," said the Russian, impatient, slamming the door behind him when he stepped out.

ZZZ

"Can you feel it?" asked Cristina.

"No, I can't. Where?" said Diego with his hands in light contact with her distended abdomen. Cristina was in bed surrounded by his strong arms and legs, lying with her back resting on his stomach. She took his hands and gently placed them on the right place.

"There." Her mother was right. Cristina felt better after the first three difficult months, and she had finally learned to enjoy her pregnancy. Her favourite pastime now was looking at her abdomen, mesmerized at the random and involuntary movement of her distended belly when the baby pushed the boundaries in any direction. Right then, under Diego's hands, the baby kicked hard, shaking it.

"Yes, I felt that! That was a big one!" he said, excited. "Does it hurt?" She smiled, shaking her head.

"No, but it is a very odd sensation. She keeps me awake sometimes."

"_She_?"

"Yes, I think she is a girl."

"How do you know?"

"I don't, it's just a feeling. But I am so convinced I even have a name for her."

"Do you? What name?"

"Sofía. Do you like it?" asked Cristina, hopeful.

"Yes, I like it. _Sofía_. It sounds nice. But what happens if it is a baby boy?"

"_She_ is not a boy. But if he is, then you can choose his name. What name would you pick?"

"Alejandro. My father would like that" said Diego, with a dreamy voice, still caressing Cristina's abdomen.

"All right. Alejandro. But I am telling you, your father will have to wait. This time, Sofía _Alejandra_ will have to do," she laughed.

ZZZ

Diego was at the newspaper office, printing the last issue of The Guardian. When he had finished, he headed to the tavern for a cool drink. As usual, like every time he came through that door, he briefly thought about Victoria, and wondered about her new life in Monterey. The De la Vegas had received a letter a month ago from her, letting them know she had given birth to a healthy baby boy. He was premature, but she assured them that everything was fine. The baby was thriving, she had recovered nicely, and she was delighted to invite them to visit whenever they could travel north that way. Diego had answered congratulating the happy parents, but had politely declined the invitation to visit at least until Cristina gave birth, and probably a few months after that.

On entering the tavern, he saw Vladimir sitting at a table at the back. Following the advice of the old saying, over the last few months he had tried hard to keep his enemy as close as possible, engaging in polite conversation with him whenever he could. The Russian was relentlessly drinking glass after glass of _tinto_ wine, and the bottle in front of him was nearly empty. Surprising Pilar with his unusual choice of beverage, Diego ordered an expensive bottle of wine and an empty glass at the counter, and walked with them to Vladimir's table.

"Good afternoon" saluted Diego. "How are you? Can I sit down for a drink?"

"Suit yourself" answered the Russian, indifferent, pointing to the chair at the other side of the table. Diego sat down, and slowly filled up both glasses.

"Any luck in your search for Zorro?" asked Diego, casually. The Russian looked at him with glassy drunken eyes, and shook his head.

"No. That coward has been avoiding me like the pest," he said. His eyes looked down to the bottle again, and remained fixed on it for a while, as if the solution to his problems lay inside, swimming in the dark liquid. Then, his tired eyes looked back at Diego. "You know, I still think you are the only one in the entire pueblo who fits the description for Zorro" said the Russian, getting more relaxed to talk than ever before with all that wine running through his veins.

"I am really flattered that you consider me a suitable candidate to be Zorro. However, as the alcalde said before, that is absurd. I am not a man of action, and I don't have the time to run around on that crazy black horse doing stunts. If that was the case, I would not have time for my books."

"And what a _tragedy_ that would be" joked Don Francisco, slapping Diego's shoulder. He had just caught Diego's last words when he approached his table, and sat down beside him, in front of the Russian. "Good afternoon, señor. Any luck in you search for Zorro?" he asked, politely, using the exact same words as his son in law, but with an obvious hint of mockery in his voice. "Do you know where he hides?"

"Ask him" said Vladimir, pointing with his glass at Diego. "I think he knows perfectly well." The Cossack gulped down the wine in his glass. Then, with an unsteady hand, he reached for the bottle to fill it up again, while Don Francisco looked at Diego with his eyebrows raised.

"Do you?"

"No, not really. Our friend here thinks I may be Zorro, because I am tall, and have dark hair like him, and…" he was interrupted by his father in law's hearty laugh.

"_You_? Zorro? Don't be ridiculous, Diego."

"Yes, Don Francisco, thank you for your trust in my abilities" he replied, pretending to be offended, something that was not so difficult to do. "That is precisely what I was saying. It is ridiculous to think I may be Zorro."

"Or so you say." The Russian showed a shifty smile, lifted his glass again and gulped the content down even faster than before. "I have to go. I'll see you around" he said, standing up not quite vertically, and he walked unsteadily to the door.

"What was all that about, Diego? Is he serious? Do you know who Zorro is?" asked Don Francisco. Diego shrugged his shoulders, with an innocent expression on his face.

"Of course I don't. He is drunk," he said, as if that would explain anything.

ZZZ

"People of Los Angeles," shouted De Soto from a stand erected in the middle of the plaza, addressing the crowd. "In a new attempt to capture the outlaw criminal who named himself _El Zorro_, I have been allowed to take exceptional measures."

"What measures?" interrupted Don Francisco from the tavern door. Bans had been placed two days ago to advice the citizens of Los Angeles to attend an important announcement by the alcalde, and most people were there, waiting expectantly for the bad news. Because nothing good could come from it; they were sure of that.

"I have implemented a lottery system. The names of all the male citizens in the territory over fifteen years old have been included for this prize draw" he said, pointing to the urn at a table at his feet, guarded by Sergeant Mendoza, who smiled warmly at the crowd. Surprised, the people at the plaza rumoured loudly, quite pleased to know there was a chance to win something.

"What is the prize, alcalde?" asked Don Alejandro. He was watching the unfolding scene form the tavern door also, beside his friend, with his arms tightly crossed over his chest, unconvinced the alcalde would give anything valuable away for free.

"The prize will be…" De Soto hesitated and he looked at Vladimir, who encouraged him with a nod. "… ten lashes from my whip, unless someone gives me the name of the person behind Zorro's mask." An uproar of indignation rose over the crowd. Sergeant Mendoza stopped smiling and looked at the alcalde, incredulous. He genuinely thought he was about to give away a good prize to some fortunate man. He looked at the urn, which was full of small folded pieces of paper, and then back to the alcalde.

"Pero, mi alcalde, you cannot do that…" he started, but his words were lost in the clamour and cries of the rest of the crowd at the plaza.

"Lancers, get your muskets ready!" shouted the alcalde. The soldiers aimed at the crowd, hesitantly, but they followed orders nonetheless. The people at the crowd shouted at them, enraged, but slowly backed away a short distance. "Mendoza, proceed. Take a paper from the urn and read the name out loud." The Sergeant did as instructed, and took a paper from the urn. With shaky hands, he unfolded the little piece and exclaimed: "Madre de Dios!"

"Come on, Sergeant, read the name out loud" barked De Soto. A heavy silence fell on the plaza, when everybody stood still to hear the unfortunate name. Everybody but the Russian, who had tampered with the papers and knew exactly what the lancer was about to say. He was the only person not looking at Mendoza. His eyes were fixed on Diego.

Sergeant Mendoza swallowed hard, and said with a tiny voice: "Felipe de la Vega."

ZZZZZ


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 25 – A Big Blow**

Diego woke up at home, in his bed, with a killer headache. For a moment, he didn't know why he was there, or why his head felt like about to explode. Then, he remembered the terrible events at the plaza. He sat up quickly and tried to get out of bed, but he was restrained by Don Francisco.

"Diego, calm down. Lie down, please" he said, gently pushing his son in law back on the pillows.

"Felipe. Where is Felipe? What happened?" The room was spinning around him now, and his cranium was throbbing, hurting as if someone was hitting his head repeatedly with a mallet. He felt so dizzy that he retch with a sudden bout of nausea, and Don Francisco rushed to place a bowl close to his mouth to collect the vomit. Diego kept being sick, fearing his head was definitely going to burst with the effort, the pain unbearable. When he had finished, he rested back on the pillows, panting. He closed his eyes, and despite the beating headache he tried to recall the full dreadful episode at the plaza.

ZZZ

After Mendoza said the name on the paper, chaos followed. The alcalde looked around, hesitant, like a lost child. "_Mierda"_ he muttered, but nobody heard him amid such a loud cacophony of infuriated voices. _"Why it had to be a blooming De la Vega? Why not somebody else?" _he thought, regretting to have included those names in the draw.

"He is a deaf-mute! And he is only a child!" shouted Don Alejandro over the rest of the cries of the angry mob. He advanced through the multitude pushing people carelessly away, like a raging bull, followed by Don Francisco. Diego stayed behind, his hands at Felipe's shoulders, protecting the bewildered young man. "How dare you?!" cried the old don when he was close to the stand, menacing the alcalde with his fist held high. As an answer, De Soto got his pistols out, and fired one into the air, over the crowd. With the loud bang, everybody in the plaza stood still and quiet for a moment.

"Calm down! Or the next time I'll fire at you!" he menaced, aiming randomly at the crowd, moving his pistol in a wide arch until it rested in front of him, pointing at Don Alejandro's chest. "There is no need for this to happen. Zorro, surrender and end this now!"

The now silent people at the crowd looked around, waiting for something, for someone to speak up. Felipe shook his head, and Diego squeezed his shoulders, whispering: "_I won't let this to happen_."

"Zorro? Where are you?" shouted the alcalde.

"What happens if Zorro is not here? He can't give himself up if he is not here," said someone at the crowd.

"In that case, if anybody knows anything, if anybody knows Zorro's identity or any other information, speak now to spare this young man from flogging!" yelled De Soto, while scanning the crowd. Nobody moved, so he ordered the soldiers to seize the young De la Vega.

Felipe sensed the hesitation in his mentor when Diego loosened the grip over his shoulders. He stepped forward and turned to face him, shaking his head with wild frightened eyes. Everybody thought he was panicking, asking Diego to save him, and nobody realized his true message was: _"Don't give yourself up!" _

Diego swallowed hard. He didn't know what to do. His eyes darted around the crowd, from the approaching soldiers to Felipe's face. He could not surrender, not now, not like that. However, he could not allow Felipe to suffer for his loyalty, either. But his brain had stopped working; he could not think of a solution, and he didn't have much time.

The reluctant lancers grabbed Felipe, who continued to look at Diego while shaking his head, and the crowd went mad again, rebuking the soldiers, pushing and hitting them while they dragged Felipe to the stand. Diego stood still, immobile, paralyzed on the spot with his eyes fixed on Felipe's, which clearly showed him the message: _"please, don't do anything."_ When they reached the stand, the alcalde ordered the soldiers to tie Felipe's hands to the logs supporting it. While Felipe didn't offer any resistance and stoically let them get on with their task, Don Alejandro and Don Francisco attacked the soldiers.

"Leave the boy alone!" shouted Don Alejandro, punching one of the lancers in the face, while Don Francisco tried to pushed away the other one, wrestling with him, both of them struggling holding onto the soldier's musket.

"Stop it! Stop or I'll fire!" shouted De Soto from the stand, aiming at Don Alejandro, unconvinced of his own words and his will to see them through.

Another soldier stepped in, hitting Don Alejandro's jaw, and the old don fell heavily to the ground. That made Diego snap out of his trance, and he lunged forward running to the stand to deliver a powerful blow to that same soldier, knocking him unconscious. Vladimir was ready, waiting for Diego's reaction, and quickly hit Don Francisco's lumbar area with his musket butt. The tall caballero cried out in pain and let go of the soldier's musket, falling to the ground next to his old friend. With an expert fast move, the Russian carried on forward and drove his musket into Diego's abdomen, below his sternum, with an extraordinary force. Diego bend down with the pain, unable to breathe, even less to complain.

"Tie him up!" shouted Vladimir to the soldiers next to Felipe. When they had finished, he produced a long whip, and approached Felipe to tear off his shirt. "Do you have anything to say?" asked to the frightened boy, who still managed to bravely shake his head. "No, I didn't think so" laughed the Cossack. "After all, you are mute, aren't you?"

Vladimir stepped back while the people at the plaza were still shouting, barely contained by the nervous lancers who pointed their muskets at them. He slowly unrolled his whip, and turned slightly to look at Diego, who was still crouched down, with a hand and a knee on the ground, trying to get some air into his lungs. With his most hideous smile, the Russian lashed the whip for the first time. The crowd gasped, disbelieving _that_ was actually happening. An innocent teenager was being flogged right in front of them, and Zorro was nowhere to be seen.

With the unexpected sharp pain, Felipe's body tensed and jolted, and he let out a whinny moan. Initially, he was determined not to let out any kind of sound, but now he was not so sure on how he was going to manage that at all. When the second whiplash fell on his back, he involuntarily cried out loud.

Vladimir tossed the whip to the ground and approached Diego with his musket by his side.

"I believe you may have something to say, Don Diego?" He looked down at him expectantly, hoping he could finally make him crack, but Diego held his gaze with a torrent of hatred spilling out from his blue eyes, without uttering a word. He looked proudly at Felipe, and then back up at the Russian, and slowly nodded. "Yes? What is it?"

"Go to hell," muttered Diego.

Exasperated, Vladimir lifted his musket and hit the side of Diego's head with a mighty blow, and darkness fell over him so quickly he didn't even hear his father's impotent cry: "NOOOOOOO!"

ZZZ

"Don't move, Diego. Doctor Hernández said your skull is fractured," said Don Francisco, holding him down again. "You had a large gash right to the bone in there. You were bleeding gallons through it. He has stitched that up and it is not bleeding anymore. Gosh, Diego, we all thought the damned Russian had killed you with that blow."

"How is Felipe? Is he all right?" asked Diego, agitated, letting his painful head down onto the soft pillow.

"Yes, he is all right. The doctor is with him right now. We are all very impressed on how brave he has been through the whole thing."

"How… how…" hesitated Diego. He swallowed and tried again, with a cracked voice, but still could not finish the question. "How many…?"

"How many what?" asked Don Francisco. Then he understood. "How many lashes? Five, he received five. The Alcalde made the crazy Russian stop when nobody was coming forward with any information about Zorro. I don't know when that mad man is going to finally realize we don't know who Zorro is, because our hero has been so clever to keep his identity a secret."

_"Not so clever as you think,"_ thought Diego, _"or I wouldn't be lying here with a fractured skull, would I?"_

"I'll let the others know you are awake."

"Where's Cristina?"

"She has been sitting by your side all this time, but her back was hurting on that chair, so she left a little while ago to lie down in bed." Diego tried to sit up one more time, but Don Francisco pushed him down again. "Don't try to stand, Diego. Believe me. You are in a bad shape. Don't move. Don't make things worse. Stand still, please. Rest now, I'll be back in a moment."

ZZZ

Doctor Hernández finished cleaning Felipe's wounds. The last three lashes had been so vicious they were very deep, even requiring some stitches to close the open skin and bare subcutaneous tissues and muscles. In some places, he could even see the bone, were the whip had sunk to expose the spine and the ribs. He had administered a large dose of laudanum to the teenager for the pain, which in no way could be enough to numb it completely. He was very impressed on how little Felipe was complaining. The youngster was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth with determination every time the doctor dug the needle in the flesh to place the stitches.

"We are done now" said the doctor, tapping gently an undamaged area of skin at Felipe's shoulder. "Try to relax and rest now, young man. I wish all my patients were as brave as you have been." Don Alejandro, who was silently watching the scene from behind the doctor, proudly nodded with tears spilling from his eyes.

"You have done so well, Felipe. I am so proud of you. You are a true De la Vega," said Don Alejandro, with his voice trembling by the emotion.

"Diego is awake" announced Don Francisco, coming into the room. "How is he?" he asked, nodding towards Felipe.

"He'll be fine," said doctor Hernández. "I had to stitch some of the wounds up because they were too deep. But he is a very strong and brave young man, and he'll be up and about in no time at all. Let's go and check on your son now, Don Alejandro."

When they left the room, leaving Felipe on his own to rest, he buried his face on the pillow and he cried a river all over it, sobbing as silently as he could. The fresh wounds stung so much they even pulsated with every heartbeat, and it would be a miracle if he could manage to get any sleep at all that night. Besides, he was too worried about his adoptive father to even try to sleep. From the distance, he had heard the frightening cracking noise his skull had done. Tied to the posts, he could not look back in that direction, and he had to endure three more whiplashes while listening to Don Alejandro's wailing, thinking Diego was dead, until the alcalde put a stop to the flogging.

ZZZ

"Diego, you are awake. Thank God. I thought I had lost you for good, again. It is another miracle," said Don Alejandro, squeezing Diego's hand. He looked at his son with great devotion and worry in his tired eyes, concerned by the bulky bandage covering Diego's head, and by the large amount of dry blood that was plastering his clothes.

"How's Felipe?" asked Diego, squeezing back his father's hand as well. He didn't like how much older his father looked all of a sudden, with dark circles under his eyes, and displaying a dark haematoma on his jaw.

"He is all right. He has been so brave. I am so proud of him. Of both of you."

Diego smiled weakly. It was a rare occasion to hear his father saying he was proud of him. Although, he would not be so proud if he knew the truth, that he had allowed that to happen and he was responsible. He closed his eyes firmly to avoid spilling any of the tears that suddenly were fighting his way out. His father and everybody else around him thought his gesture was due to the pain.

"Rest now, my son. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

Doctor Hernández urged everybody out so he could examine Diego alone. He removed the bandage carefully and looked at the wound. It had stopped bleeding. The portion of skull fractured had not displaced; it wasn't sinking down or protruding out. Satisfied, he replaced the bandage, and then he spoke, slowly, apologizing.

"Diego, down at the plaza… I nearly opened my mouth. I could not bear to see that boy being savagely hurt like that. You were right trying to keep your identity a secret. It was very difficult for me not to speak up."

"Thank you, doctor," whispered Diego. "You should not have been forced into that position, at all. You already got hurt before while protecting my identity."

"When that crazy Russian hit you with the musket... That noise… I'll never forget that horrible cracking noise in my life. As your father said, it is sort of a miracle you are still alive, Diego. Your guardian angel really loves you. I thought Vladimir had killed you instantly with that blow. You were not breathing or responding at all for a couple of minutes, and that wound was spilling blood like a waterfall, while behind us that maniac kept flogging Felipe mercilessly. I was about to shout that you were Zorro, to make him stop, when you started breathing again. I am so sorry. You would be definitely dead by now if I had done that."

"Don't worry doctor. It is not your fault. It is only mine."

"Why yours, Diego? Please, don't blame yourself for this. Nothing that you may have done could have prevented this."

"I could have surrender to the alcalde."

"Surrendering was not an option. Even Felipe knew that. He begged you not to give yourself up. He understood a bit of pain was a small price to pay to keep Zorro safe, let alone keeping _you_ safe. What a brave young man you have for a son." Diego nodded, and the small range of movement sent a new wave of pain through his throbbing head. He retched again, but managed to avoid being sick, because he couldn't bear to feel that massively intense pain inside his head again. Doctor Hernández gave him a glass of bark infusion that was resting on the night table. "Here. As usual, drink lots of bark infusion. We need to reduce the inflammation at the fracture site. And, please, take some laudanum this time. No excuses."

"Yes, sir" said Diego, compliant, drinking most of the bitter liquid.

ZZZ

"Now, tell me: what have you achieved today?" asked De Soto, but Vladimir didn't answer. "I'll tell you what. Nothing. You have achieved _nothing_. We still don't know who Zorro is, and now I am going to get in trouble with the De la Vegas and their connections in Monterey, again. You nearly killed Diego, for Christ sake! He may still die. What is it with you people trying to kill him all the time?"

"You know what I think" said the Russian, calmly.

"What? That he is Zorro? Please, don't start with that nonsense again. You checked his arm several times, and he hasn't got that scar. I saw Zorro's scar when he came into my office. It is huge. No way can anyone get confused between those two arms."

"Yes, but I still think there are too many angles to this. I still think that…"

"Well, stop thinking then!" interrupted the alcalde, furious. "Or if you must, please think of a way to justify that you nearly killed an innocent man, and that you flogged a deaf-mute teenager who would have not been able to tell you anything even if he wanted to!" barked De Soto, losing his temper. Vladimir looked at him with cold menacing eyes.

"Don't yell at me, or you'll regret it." De Soto backed off, shrinking in fear. "Say what you want, but I still think he is the only one who can be Zorro. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but I know it. The way he looked at me, the way he talked to me at the plaza… Diego De la Vega would not dare to do that. That's why you are all so mistaken with his ways; he is fooling everyone." De Soto had to agree that such a _"go to hell"_ was way out of character for Diego de la Vega, but, after all, the circumstances were exceptional, too: the Russian was flogging his adoptive son. Besides, since the duel with the German, his old school mate had shown a new determination and strength that De Soto hadn't seen before, as if the experience had made him braver somehow.

"Stop the speculations and the wild accusations, and find Zorro once and for all. I don't want any more mishaps. If you don't find him over the next three months, I will ask you to leave the territory," said De Soto, finding courage himself where he didn't know he had it.

ZZZ

"Diego, are you awake?" said a sweet voice close to his ear. He opened his eyes to find an angel hovering over him.

"Cristina. How are you?" he asked, looking worried. She leaned forward and kissed his lips gently.

"I am fine, don't worry. It is _you_ who you should be worried about. I thought I had lost you, again."

"I am a tough cookie, I guess," he said, holding her hand.

"Don't joke about this, please. I am serious. They all thought you were dead. I was shocked when they got you here all covered in blood. By the way, we need to change your cloths. The doctor didn't let us before, to minimize the movement of your head after the journey here." She got on with the task of washing his blood stained face and neck, and help him to remove the now brownish red and stiff white shirt, and replace it with a clean night gown. "I am so glad I wasn't there to see it happening. They all agree it was awful, especially the sound."

"It is my fault. I shouldn't have antagonized him."

"What happened? What did you say?"

"Ah… not much… just _"go to hell"_, and he smashed my head. He is crazy, but maybe he is also much more perceptive and clever than anybody else, because he is convinced that I am Zorro, no matter what. But, in a way, I am glad he spared me the agony to see poor brave Felipe receiving any more lashes."

"Arghhhh…" she growled, angry. "If I wasn't pregnant, I would let him know a few things… That bastard!"

"No, if you weren't pregnant you'd stay away from him as far as you could. However, I am glad you are pregnant," he smiled. She leaned forward and kissed him again, more passionately this time, and he embraced her, caressing her back. For a moment, that made him forget about the unbearable throbbing pain in his head, but when they parted, with his heart rate greatly increased, he closed his eyes and moaned, alarming Cristina.

"What's wrong? Are you all right? What can I give you?"

"It's my head" he whispered. "It really aches and feels like if that blooming Russian is hitting it constantly with every heartbeat. Give me some more of that bark infusion, please. It seems to work to ease the pain a little." She served him another glass, helping him to lift his head to drink.

"Rest now, _mi amor_. I won't kiss you again until you recover."

"You, cruel woman" he complained, with his eyes closed and a hint of a smile.

"I'll come back later. I am going to check on Felipe."

"Tell him I am very proud of him and that I am sorry I couldn't protect him" he said, with his eyes still closed, trying to get comfortable and ride the constant waves of pain. Suddenly, he opened them back again when Cristina was leaving, looking anxious. "Wait. I just realized. Because Felipe is also injured this time, nobody is going to take care of Toronado now. Can you please look after him until we recover?"

"I can take care of him, don't worry."

"Ask the good doctor to give you a hand, if you need it. Please, don't struggle on your own."

"All right, don't worry. I'll just make sure Toronado has enough food and water for now, and I'll get the doctor to help me later with the mucking out when he comes back to check on you. Rest now, please."

ZZZ

That night, Vladimir was outside the hacienda De la Vega, watching the lights inside the house from the distance. Through the windows, he could see people moving about between the rooms, and he spotted Cristina and Don Alejandro. His Don Cossack horse neighed softly, shaking his head, complaining for the lack of activity because they had been still in that spot for a while now.

"Sssshhh" said Vladimir, tapping gently the horse's neck. "We are going now." He had been considering the idea of coming into the house to finish Diego off by cutting his throat in silence, in the dark. However, he wanted to have a definitive proof of his suspicions before he would do that. Now, the fact that Diego had survived that tremendous blow, confirmed that he was an extraordinary man. He had also survived the encounter with the German, and Vladimir was puzzled why nobody else could see there was more about Diego de la Vega than met the eye. In the end, he shook his head, spat to the ground, and spurred his horse to turn back to the pueblo.

ZZZ

"I doubt we're going to get him charged with assault, father," said Diego the day after the attack.

"Why not? He attacked you, didn't he? And he nearly killed you." Don Alejandro had been ranting about this for nearly half an hour, increasing Diego's headache to a new level.

"He may say he was following orders from the alcalde. After all, we assaulted the lancers, didn't we? The three of us," he said, involving Don Francisco, who was also present in the room.

"What are you suggesting, Diego? That we don't complain about this abuse?" asked Don Francisco.

"Not at all. But probably it won't make any difference, that's all. But it's worth a try, if you want to." He repositioned his pillows, trying to get more comfortable, but it was an impossible task. "Now, you can go away and let me rest, please. All these empty words are getting nowhere, other than reverberating inside my head. The Russian didn't, but you are really killing me now," he joked.

"All right, Diego. Rest now, we'll come back later," said his father. When they were about to leave, Felipe appeared at the door. "Felipe, are you all right? You should be in bed, my boy, you look very pale" said Don Alejandro, worried. Felipe signed he wanted to see Diego. "All right, but make it quick. He just said we are killing him with our tirade. I'll wait for you outside, to take you back to your room."

"Felipe, how are you? I am so sorry about what happened. I didn't know what to do," said Diego when they were left alone. "Please, forgive me."

_"There is nothing to forgive. You couldn't do anything"_ signed Felipe. _"Are you all right? I am very worried about you. At the plaza, I thought you were dead."_

"That's what everybody keeps saying. Don't worry. I'll be fine when this horrible throbbing pain eases a little. What about you? Did you manage to rest last night? I should imagine your wounds hurt terribly too." Felipe nodded, but made the sign meant for _"I am all right."_

"I am so proud of you, Felipe." The youngster smiled, proud of himself too.

_"I am going now. I have to take care of Toronado,"_ signed Felipe.

"No. Go back to bed, please. Cristina will take care of him. Thank you."

When his adoptive son left, Diego smiled, proudly. Even if he was so badly injured himself, Felipe was still trying to take care of everything.

ZZZZZ


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 26 – Tragedy**

During the next few weeks nobody spotted Zorro. The people of Los Angeles thought he was a coward, afraid of the Russian to the point of not showing out, not even to save an innocent boy from flogging. With his actions, Vladimir had managed to do what Ramón and De Soto hadn't before: to antagonize the villagers against Zorro.

Felipe's wounds healed quite quickly, and two weeks after the ordeal he was back to normal. Diego took much longer to recover, but after two months his skull had fused back together and he was eager to reinstate Zorro's status as a hero. Encouraged by the lack of action from the masked outlaw, the alcalde had implemented some new outrageous taxes that most peasants were unable to pay; something De Soto would not had dared to do otherwise, when Zorro was a constant presence in the pueblo.

"Diego, you don't have to do anything about it. That's vanity what you have," said Cristina, lashing out. "Be happy that you are alive and that blow didn't cause any secondary ill effects. We are all amazed that you are back to normal so quickly without permanent impairment. Count your blessings and let them be. They'll survive without Zorro. They did before."

"Vanity? Not at all. But I don't like people being disappointed. I don't like them losing hope. You haven't been at the tavern for a long time. It is quite upsetting to hear them talk about Zorro now. They are waiting for him to do something, anything. They want to believe, but they are giving up."

"This is your chance to give Zorro up and have a normal life, Diego. You have suffered enough. Let him go. Please" Cristina begged.

"I can't. Zorro stands for something. For Justice, Freedom, Equality… Until they are universal, at least in los Angeles, his mission goes on," said Diego, firmly.

"How many more times do you have to be at Heaven's door, Diego?"

"Do I have to remind you that the last two episodes happened to Diego, not Zorro?"

"If you don't give up, then I will," she said, determined.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know. I wish I knew," she said, leaving the room, slamming the door. Diego hesitated between following her or heading to the fireplace. He chose the second option.

ZZZ

"Alcalde, long time no see," said Zorro, after sneaking into the alcalde's office undetected one more time. It was late in the evening, already dark, and he had the intention to quickly get into the office; frighten De Soto just enough to get him to drop the new taxes; and get out of there before the Russian would notice he was around. While avoiding the soldiers outside, he had checked the office from the window with a small mirror, and he believed the alcalde was alone in the room.

"Zorro! What are you doing here, _coward_?" said the alcalde, who could not refrain himself from using the word in everybody's mouth when they referred to Zorro lately.

"Coward? Not at all, alcalde. Here I am. I am sorry if I had disappointed you, but as you know, I have a _secret_ real life I have to attend to as well. I have been away, and I'm afraid it looks like for too long."

"I told you he would come. It was worth the wait" said the alcalde, with a devious smile. Zorro looked around, nervous, but he couldn't see anybody else in the room. Suddenly, the Russian appeared from behind a secret panel on the wall.

Zorro cursed to himself, upset because he had carelessly fallen for it so easily. He hadn't realized the room was a bit shorter now, and the plaster on that wall looked fresh.

"Zorro. At last" saluted the Russian, bowing a little, glad to be out of the confined space of the newly created secret room. He was convinced the time had come to unmask his nemesis, Diego de la Vega, and that he would not escape alive again. "How do you want to die? By my gun, my sword, or would you prefer I use the _nagaika_ to smash you into pieces?"

"So many choices, I don't know what to say. Let me think…" he said, getting a bit closer to the alcalde, without trying to reach any of his own weapons yet. "Neither!" he shouted, jumping forward, pushing the alcalde against the Russian, who got crushed between De Soto and the wall. Before the Russian or the alcalde could get their guns ready, Zorro carry on forward and jumped through the window to escape, bending his arms over his face to protect it from the shattered glass. He rolled on the ground outside and stood up quickly to attack the surprised lancer who was guarding the office's door. He punched the lancer, who fell to the ground semiconscious, grabbed his musket and placed it as a bar across the door to prevent the Russian getting out of the alcalde's office. It was a temporary measure, of course, which would last as much time as the enraged Cossack would need to ram the door.

Zorro whistled to Toronado, who appeared promptly from behind a building. On his way there, Zorro passed close to the Russian's horse, and untied it from the rail. He knew that to have any real chances of escaping, he had to take that horse with him. Still holding the reins, he jumped on Toronado, and he spurred the mighty stallion to a canter towards the pueblo's entrance. The Don horse followed, reluctantly, but shortly after they left the pueblo and increased the pace to a gallop, the horse stopped abruptly, pulling hard from Zorro's shoulder. He nearly fell off Toronado, and to prevent this to happen, he let go of the reins. The Cossack horse ran away back to the pueblo, back to his master. Frustrated, Zorro encouraged the black stallion to carry on, as fast as he could.

ZZZ

That evening, Cristina was fuming. Apparently, Diego had totally ignored her words of wisdom and had gone out as Zorro. She understood the importance of his quest for Justice, but she was resenting the passive attitude of the Angeleños, who were so used to have Zorro to save the day, they had become unable to fend for themselves. She hated it. It was too much to ask somebody to put his life on hold, to risk his live every day because they could not bother to grow a back bone. And, on top of that, they dared to call _him_ a coward. She wished her pregnancy could be over soon and she could be back to normal to let the Italian teach the villagers a thing or two about loyalty and, especially, self-preservation.

ZZZ

Toronado was struggling. He had not been exercised properly for a long time, since Zorro had been injured at the ravine, many months ago. He hardly ever left the cave now, and he had put weight on. The Cossack horse was in top form, and it was getting dangerously closer, galloping faster and faster without signs of getting tired. Toronado's only advantages were that he knew the terrain so well, and that in the moonless dark night, horse and rider were quite difficult to spot in the distance.

Zorro didn't like the laboured breathing of Toronado, and he realized they were not going to make it to the cave before the Russian would catch up with them. Soon, they would be within shooting range. Thinking fast, when they descended downhill between some trees, out of sight from their hunters for a moment, Zorro suddenly pulled from the reins to stop Toronado, and he jumped to the ground when the black stallion slowed down, before he had stopped completely.

"Go home!" shouted Zorro, but the baffled horse stood there snorting and panting, wondering about his master's intentions and his odd behaviour. "Come on, go home! Quick!" Zorro shouted again, slapping Toronado's hindquarter. The horse neighed loudly and ran away, disappearing in the darkness. Zorro could hear the Russian's horse approaching, and he wondered why his own strict moral code didn't allow him to carry guns. Under normal circumstances he didn't believe in killing. He thought that every human life was valuable, but he could have made an exception to that rule right now, as he had done with the German. He scanned the ground looking for a suitable large stone, and hid behind a tree, rolling it in his right hand, getting ready for a surprise attack. He tried to calm down and slow down his breathing, because he only had one shot, and he better hit the target right on.

When the Russian got closer, Zorro came out from behind the tree and threw the stone to his face. The Russian had a split second to look at him, showing surprise, but he fell off the horse when the stone hit his forehead. Zorro unsheathed his sword and ran to the fallen man, holding his sword's tip on his throat. But Vladimir didn't offer any resistance, because he was barely conscious. Zorro hesitated with his sword shaking in his hand. He had the perfect opportunity to send the Russian to hell and to put an end to the problems he was causing. But he could not kill him like that, not in cold blood.

"Damn!" he shouted to the darkness. In frustration, Zorro kicked the Russian's side quite hard, and moved away to start the long trek back to the Hacienda de la Vega.

ZZZ

For the next few days, the Russian didn't appear at the pueblo. When he did, he only entered briefly the alcalde's office. Diego was at the newspaper office, leaning against the door frame, watching the scene. The Don horse was carrying a lot of gear, and it looked like it was ready for a long trek. Diego wished the Russian was about to leave Los Angeles for good. When he came out of the alcalde's office, Vladimir spotted him. He looked at him with such hatred in his eyes, that Diego felt a chill up his spine. They held their gazes for a few seconds, and then the Russian climbed up his splendid horse and headed for the pueblo's gate. Diego sighed, relieved, glad they'd finally got rid of him.

ZZZ

Three days later, Sergeant Mendoza approached the table where Diego and Felipe were having lunch.

"Good morning, Diego. Felipe. Can I sit down?" he asked.

"Of course you can, sergeant. Do you want to share a meal with us? We are having _pollo al ajillo_. I can ask for another portion for you, if you wish."

"Thank you, Don Diego. You are so generous. Of course I would like to try it. It looks delicious." Pilar brought another dish, and the Sergeant tucked in, happily.

"I am so glad to see you have recovered from your injuries so well, Don Diego. We didn't think you were going to make it, but once again, you proved us all wrong."

"Thank you, sergeant. Sure, I am glad I am feeling much better, too."

"I don't understand why the Russian was so obsessed with you. I know he thought that you are Zorro, but still… I am so glad he is gone."

"Is he gone? For good?"

"Yes, I think so, Don Diego. I heard him talking to the alcalde."

"Do you know where he went?"

"He said he was travelling north. I think he may have mentioned Monterey, but I am not sure." The expression in Diego's face changed at the mention of that location.

"Mendoza!" called the alcalde from the tavern entrance.

"Madre de Dios! What does he want now? Excuse me for a moment, Don Diego." The sergeant left the table, and Diego kept staring into space, lost in thought.

"Victoria" he said, his eyes fixed on the empty space in front of him. "Victoria" he repeated, turning to face Felipe. "That's what I would do if I was the Russian: to find Victoria so she could tell me where Zorro is. I have to warn them."

ZZZ

"Why do you have to go now?" asked Cristina, angry. The last time Diego tried to help Victoria, he ended up maimed by the ravine. She was the one left to collect the pieces, but she was in no position to do that now. "Why do you always have to run to her rescue?"

"I told you before, because I feel responsible. It is my fault that my relationship with her as Zorro made her a target. But don't worry, I just want to get to Monterey quickly and let Juan know about the Russian before he gets there, if he is going that way at all, which I don't even know for sure. Juan is a high ranked naval officer, and he can get military protection for his family. But I have to go now. The Russian left Los Angeles three days ago. If he is really heading for Monterey, a letter will not get there on time before he does. I'll have to ride non-stop changing horses along the way to catch up with him."

"And what about me? I am about to give birth to your first child. Don't you think I may need you here?" she asked, still very upset.

"You may still have another two or three weeks to go. I'll be back by then if I hurry up. Anyway, you won't need me that much to give birth to our baby. You can do that yourself without me. The doctor will take care of you." She was looking at him with trembling lips, about to cry, in despair. "Look, Cristina, I love you. I would like to stay here with you and be the first one to hold our baby, but I won't forgive myself if anything happens to them just because I wouldn't bother to warn them in time."

"You should have killed the damned Russian when you had the chance. I would have done that. And this whole situation would not be taking place."

"I know you would have killed him without a second thought, but I appreciate the value of every life much more than you do, even the life of a criminal." Cristina scoffed at his words.

"And now, look at how you have to put yourself in danger again because you were too righteous to finish him off. All right, go if you must. But, please, kill him this time if you have another chance. God will forgive you, don't worry. I am sure of that. And we'll cheer you on it."

ZZZ

"_Mi niño, eres tan guapo como tu papá_" said Victoria to her baby, before placing him in the cot. "Your daddy will be here soon. _Siesta _time for you now, _mi amor_" she added, kissing tenderly his chubby cheeks. She picked up the dirty dishes from the table, and blissfully turned around to go back to the kitchen, happier than she had felt for a long, long time. She was forgetting about Diego, Zorro was long gone from her mind, and she was finally falling in love with Juan, who was such an attentive husband and father, that she felt the most fortunate woman in the world.

The dishes shattered with a load crash when she dropped them over the tiled floor. Victoria gasped in shock and froze in the middle of the room, frightened by the sight of that menacing man; someone she had seen before but she could not remember where, nor who he was.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she asked, moving cautiously away from him.

"Stay where you are. Don't move" ordered the stranger. "I just have a few questions for you, and I hope, for you own good, that you will help me."

"What do you want?" she said, her eyes flitting between the man and the cot, a few meters away from her, out of reach.

"I want to know Zorro's secret identity. Who is he?"

"_Zorro?_" she blinked in surprise "Why are you asking me about Zorro?" Then she realized who the stranger was and where she had seen him for the last time: chasing Zorro away from Los Angeles. She spoke her thoughts while retreating slowly, even paler and more frightened than before: "You are the Russian! But… you are _dead_!"

"I can assure you, darling, I am not dead, and I am not a ghost. But you will be one pretty soon if you don't answer." He came closer to her, and repeated the question, shouting loudly this time: "WHO IS ZORRO?"

"I don't know! I never found out!" she cried, hysterically. She moved towards the cot, but the Russian slapped her face hard, throwing her on the floor, among the broken china pieces. With her lip bleeding, she scrambled on the floor, slipping over the broken dishes, trying to move away from him unsuccessfully while slicing the skin on her knees and hands.

"Don't lie to me! I am sure you know because you were his girlfriend for years! Who is he?" he asked again, grasping Victoria's hair. He pulled tight, making her cry out in pain.

"I don't know, I swear I don't know!" she sobbed, struggling to get away, but he pulled even tighter.

"I am going to ask you one more time, and then I am going to kill you… and your baby too. Who is Zorro?"

"No! Not the baby! No, please!" she begged in a sea of horrified tears.

Someone knocked on the front door. The loud noise made Victoria and Vladimir stop the struggle, and they looked toward the door as if they had never seen one before, frozen for a few seconds. The door banged again.

"Helloooo! Victoria… Juan… Are you there?" a familiar voice shouted.

"Diego! HELP! HELP…m…" She didn't finish her cry for help, pushed forward so violently by the Russian that her head hit the floor very hard, rendering her unconscious.

Diego tried to open the door, but the latch was on, so he charged against the closed door with his right shoulder, knocking it down out of its frame. He came into the house which such force that he also crash-landed on the ground, together with the door.

"You!" exclaimed the two men at the same time, recognizing each other with surprise. Diego got quickly on his knees, but Vladimir rushed to the entrance and kicked Diego's face before he could stand up. He fell backwards, dazed, with a taste of blood in his mouth, but he managed to avoid the second kick to his ribs by rolling on his side away from the fallen door. For the third one, he trapped the Russian's boot under his armpit, twisting it, and they both fell back on the floor. They punched and kicked each other fiercely, rolling on the floor together while pulling from each other's clothes. On the struggle, Diego's shirt was torn from the shoulder seam, revealing a large scar on his left arm. Vladimir stood up first, his face red with irrational rage.

"I knew it was you! _Zorro_. After all this time, I am going to kill you now!" He renewed the attack with blind fury, delivering blows as if possessed with an extraordinary evil strength. Diego had trouble to avoid the shower of kicks and punches, and tried to retreat, in vain.

Startled by the commotion and the noise, the baby began to cry loudly. In the murky darkness of her mind, the maternal instinct kicked in and Victoria, recognizing that sound, slowly came back from the shadows. She crawled on the floor to reach her baby, feeling quite dizzy, and tried to soothe him by rocking the crib. Meanwhile, she turned to watch the two men fighting, and she quickly realized the Russian was winning. If Diego could not control the stranger she would be the next in line again, followed by her baby. She staggered away from the cot, grabbed the metal poker from the fireplace, and attacked the Cossack from behind, delivering a hard blow to his head, but it was not hard enough. He fell on the floor, moaning, but not unconscious.

"Victoria! Get your baby and get out of here!" shouted Diego, trying to stand up while holding his bruised ribs.

She dropped the poker, took her baby and ran outside passing by Diego, who was still on his knees. The Russian was trying to get off the floor as well, but was so stunned by the blow he just reached for his gun to finish Zorro off for good, the easy way.

Victoria ran wild onto the street, advancing only a few meters away from the house before she bumped into Juan, who was coming home dressed on full navy officer gear.

"Victoria! What are you doing? What's wrong?"

"Help Diego! He is going to kill him!" she cried.

"What? Who? …Where?" Juan didn't have a clue what was she talking about.

"Help him! In the house!" she screamed again.

Alarmed by her hysterical state, Juan drew his sword and ran to the house. He came through the door frame just when Diego jumped out of the way, encountering Vladimir's blast. The bullet hit his chest, right in the middle, and he fell on his back, the sword still in his right hand.

Vladimir dropped that gun, and reached for the other loaded one. Diego moved fast, seizing Juan's sword, and carried on with his momentum to pierce the Russian from side to side through his abdomen, impaling him against the wall before he could fire. Diego pulled the gun off Vladimir's hand and threw it to the other side of the room, then turned to kneel down beside the officer. The Russian wriggled while trying to pull the sword away, off the wall, with his bare hands, making them bleed. Vladimir felt too weak with the shock and pain, and fell unconscious while cursing in his mother tongue.

"Juan! Juan! Are you all right?" Diego realized immediately his question was pointless. He was far from right. Juan was dying.

"Diego… what happened?" asked Juan, weakly. "Who is that man?" He groaned when Diego tried in vain to apply some pressure to the wound. He was bleeding profusely, with a large red stain expanding quickly over his white military coat. Diego suspected the bullet had damaged a large blood vessel, if not the heart itself.

"It is bad, isn't it? I am dying." Diego could not lie, could not deny the evidence. Juan grabbed his sleeve.

"Promise me you will take care of Victoria" he asked, frantically.

"What?"

"She considers you like family. She has nobody else to help her. Please, promise that you will take care of her, and my son. Please." Diego could not speak. "Please…" Juan was fading away, the grip in Diego's sleeve becoming weaker with every second.

"I promise. I will take care of them. Don't worry, I will" said Diego with a trembling voice, overwhelmed by the emotion.

"Thank you" whispered Juan, his last words before he fell unconscious to never wake up again. After a couple of minutes, he died in Diego's arms.

ZZZZZ


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's notes:** Yes! Victoria is back! Trouble ahead! LOL

Thank you for your wonderful reviews, I hope you are all enjoying this story as much as I am enjoying writing it. Well, some parts, at least. Now, thanks to the influence of Pearl Jam and their song "release" I got in a very sad mood. This chapter has been written less than 10 minutes ago. Sorry for any typos and wrong expressions, but I can't help it, I have to share it now, before I think I am too cruel and change something.

Btw. Real life is going to claim me for the next few days, so I don't know when I will post again. For now, I'll leave you with the greatest cliffhanger of all. Sorry.

**Chapter 27 – In labour**

"Diego, do you think she is going to be all right?" asked Don Alejandro, greatly concerned about Victoria, who seemed to be affected by a deep depression. She stayed in her room at the Hacienda de la Vega most of the time, crying, and a nanny had to take care of her son. She would only breastfeed him if she was encouraged to do so, barely coming out of her trance.

"Yes, I hope so, father. She needs time to get over the loss of her husband" said Diego. "It happened so fast, and the circumstances were so dramatic, she is going to take a long time to accept it." As he had promised to Juan, the first thing he did, right after his funeral, was taking the shocked Victoria back to Los Angeles. But, that promise to her husband would not have been necessary because Diego blamed himself for the tragedy, and of course he would had taken care of the widow, regardless. In his mind, Juan's death was basically his fault, because –as Cristina had pointed out so bluntly– he should have killed the Russian when he was hopelessly at his mercy lying on the ground. However, the fact that Diego had made that promise was a good excuse to try to placate Cristina, who was most unhappy with the situation, always on guard as if Victoria was a constant menace to their marriage.

ZZZ

"Cristina, be reasonable. There is nothing going on between me and Victoria. Her husband died in my arms, but before he did, Juan made me promise I would take care of Victoria and their son. Now, listen: I have the intention to keep that promise, and that is final." Cristina looked very cross, indeed. "How would you feel if instead of Juan it was me, if I was dead? How would you feel then? I guess you would like to have someone to help you, to take care of you."

"I suppose so, but that person would not be Victoria."

"Why not? Maybe she would. Why can't you be friends? Why can't you give her a chance?"

"Because I know about your past together, that's why. And I know you still love her," she accused.

"Cristina, I don't want to talk about this anymore, ever. This is the last time. Yes, I _did_ love Victoria, and I will always care about her, in a different way now because I love _you_. There is nothing you can do about it: a very small portion of my heart will still beat for her. The rest is all yours, if you want it. I beg you, don't spoil our happiness together with your irrational jealousy. Please." Cristina started crying, ashamed of her own weakness.

"I am sorry, Diego. I also feel sorry for her and her situation. I do, really. It is just that… I can't help it. I don't like to see her around you."

"Shhhss. Come here" he opened his arms and she fell into his embrace, trembling. "There is nothing to be jealous about" he said, tenderly caressing her hair. "I love you." At that moment, the baby kicked her hard inside her abdomen, so hard that even Diego noticed it. "Ouch! I felt that! I think she is also happy to know that I love her mummy so much" he laughed, kneeling to kiss her distended abdomen. Cristina laughed too, wiping up her tears.

"Yes, she is!" Diego stood up, happy to see that Cristina had calmed down and seemed to understand. He took her arm to walk her to the dining room. On their way out, Cristina suddenly bent down, resenting a sharp pain in her abdomen, and her waters broke, spreading amniotic fluid all over the floor. "I think you got her so excited, she wants to come out to see you" she said, with an uncertain smile.

ZZZ

Doctor Hernández was sweating profusely. A few droplets were sliding down from his forehead. Despite his efforts, he was struggling to stop the haemorrhage. He could not place a lot of padding or pressure yet, because Cristina was still pushing to get her baby out. With the last combination of a strong uterine contraction and the desperate pushing efforts of Cristina, the head was crowning now, finally. Diego was by her side, showing obvious panic in his eyes when he looked at the doctor and saw his troubled expression and the amount of blood covering his arms, up to his elbows. However, he didn't say anything, and when he turned to look at Cristina again, he tried to maintain a serene facial expression while tenderly talking to her, trying to sooth her.

"You are doing so well, _mi amor_, Keep pushing. She is nearly here" he said, holding her hand.

With her last desperate cry and mighty push, the baby was out. The doctor placed it gently in the warm towel Doña María Luisa had ready by his side. She was also frightened by the large amount of blood her daughter was losing, but stood by the doctor helping as much as she could without letting out any comments to alarm Cristina that something was seriously wrong. Bleeding in labour was a normal occurrence. That amount of blood, was not.

Doña María Luisa wrapped the little baby girl in the towel and dried her out while the doctor cut the umbilical cord. She was about to announce the sex of the baby when a gush of fresh blood came out, followed by a ripped placenta. Instead of the happy words _"It's a girl!"_ she couldn't help but to scream: "Oh, my God!"

"What's wrong?" asked Cristina. But her mother didn't answer, transfixed with horror looking at the desperate attempts of the doctor to contain the haemorrhage, using all the clean rags and towels at his disposal. "Mother, what's wrong? Is the baby all right?" Doña María Luisa came out of her trance and approached her daughter to show her the baby, who had started to cry out with healthy powerful lungs.

"No, no, the baby is fine. She is fine. She is a girl" said Doña María Luisa, rushing her words. She placed the baby to Cristina's side, so she could see her. "Here, this is Sofía."

She contained the tears, thinking her daughter may not have much time to enjoy her baby. She already looked terribly pale and weak.

"Sofía… See, Diego. I told you, she is a girl" she said, with a weak smile, caressing the crying newborn's cheek gently. She offered her pinkie to the baby, who grabbed it as if her life depended on it. Cristina melted with the emotion and the wave of maternal love she felt right then.

"Of course she is. You are always right, aren't you?" said Diego, his heart racing wild with the worry. He looked back at the doctor, who was still frantically pushing clothing material into Cristina's birthing canal. He looked at her daughter, and then back at Cristina. If she died, he would also feel responsible for it. After all, ultimately, it was also _his _fault she had become pregnant. "Look at her, she is so beautiful. Just like her mother" he said, shaking, with his voice breaking, unable to control himself any more.

"She's got blue eyes, like you" said Cristina, ever so weak. She closed her eyes, unable to keep them opened, and fell unconscious shortly after.

ZZZZZ


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's notes:** I couldn't leave the story hanging there. The "voices" didn't let me. They nagged me all day and night so I would carry on. Enjoy and review, please. Thanks.

BTW, this is NOT the unexpected gift. So far, only the alcalde's desk has appeared. All the other elements for the 3rd challenge are down the line.

**Chapter 28 – The gift of life**

"I am very sorry, Diego. I can't stop the haemorrhage. Even if I could, she had lost too much blood already" apologized doctor Hernández.

"Please, keep trying, doctor. Do what you can. I can't lose her" said Diego, with tears running down his face. He lifted his newborn daughter and kissed her gently, and with shaky hands he handed her over to Doña María Luisa, who was also silently crying by her daughter's side.

"There was something wrong there. That placenta was obstructing the way for the baby, and now is ripped. That should not have happened. It hasn't separated in a normal way. It keeps bleeding" said the doctor, wiping out his forehead with the miraculously still clean sleeve in his upper right arm. A few more blood drops fell from his soaked hand while he did that, and they joined the rest of the blood stains already splattered on the doctor's shirt front.

"Keep trying!" snapped Diego in a rude way, standing up quickly. He needed to do something, whatever, but he didn't know what. The doctor ignored his demanding tone, nodded and changed the rags, removing some very soaked ones, which dripped more blood to the floor. At that moment, Victoria came into the room.

"How is she? Is the baby born yet?" Nobody answered, but Victoria realized something was very wrong; she could feel the tension in the room. She heard the baby softly crying in Doña María Luisa's arms, and then she saw the blood soaked rags on the floor. Cristina was lying in bed, immobile, looking as pale as a white sheet. "Oh, my God. Is she going to make it?"

"I don't know Victoria. I don't know," said Diego, covering his eyes with his hand, shaking. Victoria walked up to him and hugged his friend, trying to comfort him. "I don't know what to do" he complained, sobbing, hugging Victoria back quite tightly in his desperation.

"I remember you told me once about someone giving blood to another person, in Europe. Is that something you can try?" she asked, trying to help. With her words, Diego abruptly broke the embrace between them.

"The blood transfusion! I forgot about that. Thank you, Victoria" he said, wiping out his tears. Without saying another word, he ran out of the room.

Victoria approached Doña María Luisa to look at the baby, who was still crying. "Oh, she is so pretty. And she looks so hungry." She looked down at the ghostly pale Cristina, and then back up at her mother. "Should I feed her? I have plenty of milk," she offered.

"That would be great, Victoria. Thank you very much" said Doña María Luisa, handing over the baby to Victoria. "My poor daughter is in a very bad shape." She caressed her daughter's cheek, shocked at how pale and cold she was. "Of course, she can't feed her baby herself right now. Thank you so much. You are so generous."

"You are very welcome, but it's not a problem" said Victoria, happy to be able to help. She sat down in a chair with Sofía in her arms. Then, she offered her breast to the crying little baby, and she latched on strongly, suckling desperately. "Oh, she is a very clever girl! She got it right immediately" smiled Victoria, rocking her whole body gently while Sofía kept suckling, patting her little back softly.

ZZZ

Diego was down at the cave trying to find any materials suitable for a blood transfusion. A couple of years ago, he had read about the experiments carried out in England, and had told Victoria about the possibility of transferring blood from one person to another. He had forgotten about it, but obviously Victoria was so impressed she still remembered it. In his desperation, he smiled slightly. He never would have thought Victoria was _actually _listening to him rambling about science.

He found a long narrow glass capillary tube that he used for his chemical experiments, which he could use to transfer the blood, and washed it thoroughly. Then, he look at the needles he had available. They were not suitable, because he needed a hollow one so he could administer the blood through it. He came back up to the library to look for a book. He remembered he had read about some experiments about a similar subject carried out in the 1650's, and he wondered what materials they used back then. He ruffled the pages quickly until he found the reference to a certain Dr Wren, who had used goose quills as a needle to administer drugs into the veins on his patients. That would have to do. He slammed the heavy old book close and came back to the cave, looking for any suitable unused clean writing feathers and quills. He found two with a big enough diameter and cut the points, making sharp bevel edges at the ends. He washed them, and then he attached the improvised needles into the glass tube, trying to get a sealed fit as close as possible, by wrapping a tiny strip of cloth around the quills so they would fit tightly on the tube. Then, armed with his rudimentary blood giving set, he headed back to Cristina's room.

ZZZ

"How is she?" he asked when he came back into the room. Cristina was still unconscious, looking even paler than before, if that was at all possible.

"I think I have stopped the bleeding now, Diego. Or maybe she hasn't got any more blood left to lose. She is very weak" said the doctor.

"I made this device to give her some of my blood. I read about it a while ago, but I forgot, and Victoria has kindly reminded me all about it. It doesn't always work, and sometimes the patients die very quickly as a reaction to it, but there is nothing else we can do." He moved a chair close to the bed. Then, he realized Victoria was still feeding Sofía, sitting on another chair. "You are feeding her! Thank you, Victoria. Thank you so much."

"You are very welcomed. She is an angel, a pleasure to do it. Don't worry about it; it is nothing. I owe you my life. It is the least I can do to help you" she said, smiling at him. "I hope that blood transfer works. But I think I better go now, because I may faint if I see that. Only thinking about it is already upsetting me."

"Me too. I am getting queasy. I'll go with Victoria" said Doña María Luisa

"Call my father then to help us. We need an extra pair of hands to keep her arm straight."

Doña María Luisa nodded. A little while after the women left the room, Don Alejandro came in, looking anxious and ecstatic at the same time, because finally, after all the time waiting and all the nagging to his son, he was an _abuelo_.

.

….

**Author's notes:** if you are feeling queasy, and you hate needles and blood, please skip the next descriptive bit about the improvised 1820's blood transfusion. You may faint, like Don Alejandro, ha ha ha. And don't worry if you suffer from _Tripanophobia_ (phobia of needles). I can place IV cannulas, set IV lines and mess around with my patients' veins as much as I like, but if anybody comes close to me with a needle to take a blood sample, I hit the deck fast. I need to lie down straight and concentrate in something else before they can do it, or I faint. But, at least, if you skip this, read the last paragraph. Yeah, go girls! :D

….

"How is she? María Luisa said something about giving Cristina your blood. How are you going to do that, Diego? Is that even possible?"

"I don't know. It is the only thing I can think of to save her. I am willing to give it a try." He climbed up to the chair and leaned over Cristina to position the tube at the right distance to her arm. Because the tube was glass, it would not bend to accommodate any movement, and he would have to be extra careful to keep still. "There. Hold her arm straight, father," he instructed. "Doctor, can you reach to place the quill into my vein, and then into hers when the blood flows down?"

"It will be a bit difficult, but I think I may be able to do it." He held the improvised device with his left hand, and the upper bevel quill in the right. "Hold still now" he said, and then he pierced Diego's arm with the sharp end to find his vein. "Now, hold down to it tightly with your other hand so it doesn't move. And stand as still as you can." Diego's blood was slowly advancing through the narrow glass tube. He ignored the sharp pain he felt in the puncture site, and he looked at his own blood sliding down to reach Cristina, mesmerized. The doctor was ready with the other end close to Cristina's arm, and when the blood reached the lower end of the tube, he inserted the lower quill in her vein. The device seemed to be working right for a while, but then the little pieces of cloth became soaked and blood was oozing out at both ill-fitting ends.

"This is such a waste of blood, Diego" said his father, worried.

"It doesn't matter. I have plenty. If she is getting some and it is helping, keep going."

After five minutes of blood spilling everywhere, Don Alejandro said with a weak tone of voice: "Doctor Hernández, do you mind to hold Cristina's arm for a moment, I… I…" The doctor held her arm, and Don Alejandro managed to move away a few steps before he fainted, collapsing on the floor.

"Father, you are supposed to be strong, a soldier," mocked Diego, not too happily because he was starting to feel weak himself, with the blood loss and the concentration required to stand still balanced over Cristina like he was. "Should we stop now, doctor?"

"I think so, Diego. I don't think she is getting even a quarter of the blood you are spilling now. But it may have been enough to save her." He removed the quills from their arms. As he suspected, the blood had clotted inside the tube and most of Diego's blood had been wasted in vain. Diego leaned on the doctor to climb down the chair, and sat down on it, feeling dizzy.

"Can you please check on my father?" he asked, holding his head down between his hands. Doctor Hernández approached Don Alejandro and examined him quickly.

"He just fainted. He is fine."

"What about Cristina?"

"Well, she certainly has a much better colour than before. And her pulse is stronger. I think it may have worked" he said, enthusiastic. Diego stood up quickly to get closer to Cristina, but his blood pressure had dropped to the point to make him faint just like his father had done. The doctor sighed deeply, rolling his eyes to the sight of the two grown up men sprawling on the floor. He suspected that if the two "_impressionable_" women would be still in the room instead of outside, right then they would be busy, diligently cleaning the blood spills from the floor rather than lying on it.

ZZZZZ


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 29 – Jealousy**

"She is going to be fine. She has to."

Cristina recognized that voice. It was a little harsh but nice and attractive, deep, masculine, and oozing determination. It was the familiar voice of Diego. She could hear the voices around her, quite distant and muffled, but she was so exhausted she could not bother to move; talk; open her eyes; or even wonder who they were talking about. Instead, she preferred to lie there swimming in that dense dark fog, feeling the comforting warm touch of Diego's hand caressing hers.

"At least, she hasn't shown any of the bad reactions you talked about. You said some patients would die quickly after receiving the blood. She is stable, and I don't think that will happen now," said the doctor, hopeful.

"No, she'll be fine." Diego gently stroke Cristina's face, which definitely looked healthier than the pale pasty colour she had shown before the transfusion. The contact made Cristina abandon the comfort of the dark zone, and she opened her eyes slowly, blinking with the light she received. "Cristina, you are awake!" exclaimed Diego, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. She smiled back at him, weakly.

"Yes." She looked around, wondering why there were so many worried faces looking at her. Then she remembered. She was in labour and had given birth to a baby girl. "Where is Sofía?"

"She is fine. She is with Victoria," said Diego. An obvious frown appeared on Cristina's upset face. "You have been lying unconscious for a few hours, Cristina. She has been feeding our baby and taking care of her for you. You should be grateful, as we all are."

Cristina struggled between the gratitude and the hate she felt for Victoria right then. She was afraid little Sofía could mistakenly think that Victoria was _her mother_; a very disturbing thought for her.

"I want to see my daughter."

"I'll get her. Don't worry, love," said her father, tapping gently on her hand. "I am so relieved you are going to be fine, Cristina. I was so worried."

ZZZ

Victoria had finally climbed out of the deep lonely place she had got herself into after her husband was killed. Having a chance to help Diego by taking care of Sofía had proved to be an excellent way to come back to life. She should be able to take care of her own son again, and she still had plenty of milk left to feed the gorgeous new baby in the house.

"Victoria, Cristina is awake" announced Don Francisco after knocking on the nursery room's door. "Can I come in?"

"Yes, come in," said Victoria. She had finished feeding Sofía a few minutes ago, and she was rocking the little baby to get her asleep. "Is she going to be all right?"

"I think so, but I don't know for sure yet. She wants to see Sofía. Can I have her?"

"Yes, of course. There," said Victoria, carefully placing the baby in Don Francisco's arms. He smiled lovingly looking at her granddaughter.

"She is so beautiful. Thank you, Victoria. Thank you for your help," he said without taking his eyes off the new-born baby.

"You are welcome, Don Francisco, but there is no need to thank me, not at all. I am really glad I could help. You have all been so kind to me these past few days that it's the least I could do." Don Francisco was tenderly caressing Sofía's cheek, nodding to Victoria with an absent mind. "You must be so proud, being a grandfather."

"Yes, of course I am. Now I have to compete with Alejandro, because I am sure he would like to be named _"the best granddad ever"_. But I won't let him win this contest." They both laughed. "Come on, little one. Let's go see your mum."

ZZZ

Cristina was so frustrated she could scream.

Following the initial melt down of happiness she had suffered when she'd seen her daughter for the second time, she had assured everybody that she was feeling well enough to take care of Sofía herself. The doctor had checked her over and had agreed she seemed well enough to try. Doña María Luisa had got everybody out of the room so Cristina could be quiet and relaxed to learn the _"art of breastfeeding."_ She had tried hard, but the baby was not latching.

After a while, Sofía wriggled away from the nipple and then started crying, complaining loudly.

"I don't think she is hungry, dear. Probably Victoria fed her not so long ago" said Doña María Luisa, taking the crying baby off her daugther's hands, to pace the room rocking her on her shoulder, gently patting her back. After a while, the baby burped. "See?"

"Victoria! Always Victoria…" said Cristina, disdainful.

"What is it? Why are you so upset?" asked her mother, with reproach in her tone. "You should be grateful to Victoria. We all are."

"I… I…" she hesitated, "I don't like her."

"Why? What has she done to you, the poor soul? She has been so traumatized by the death of her husband it is nice to see her smiling at last. Why don't you like her?"

"Because she loves Diego" said Cristina, bitter.

"Well, they have always been friends, since childhood. I am sure she cares about him, of course."

"I said she _loves_ him," she accused. "And I think _he _loves_ her_ too."

"Don't be ridiculous! Diego? That's impossible. He only has eyes for you, dear."

"I am not so sure." Cristina started crying again. Her raging maternity hormones were all over the place.

"Cristina, don't be silly, please. Do you know you nearly died giving birth to Sofía?" Her daughter nodded slowly, wiping off the tears. "And do you know why are you still alive? Do you know who saved you?" Cristina shook her head. _Better not be blooming Victoria!_

"Who did? The doctor?"

"Diego. Diego saved you. He gave you his blood."

"What?" She looked very confused. "Blood? How?"

"I am not sure; he called it "_blood transfusion_". He made a device with a tube to transfer blood from his arm to yours." Cristina's jaw dropped.

"What? Do I have Diego's blood in my veins right now?"

"Yes, you do. Do you think someone who doesn't love you would do that for you? If he really loved Victoria instead of you, he could have taken advantage now that she is a widow to marry her after your death, don't you think?"

"I guess" said Cristina, reluctantly.

"So, stop the nonsense about Victoria."

"But I still don't want her to take care of Sofía anymore. I don't want my baby getting confused about who her real mum is."

"All right. I'll let Victoria know her help is no longer needed."

"Thank you. Yes, please. Do that."

ZZZ

During the following weeks Cristina gradually recovered her health. She had managed to take care of her daughter with the help of her mother and the nanny Don Alejandro had employed to help with the babies in the house, and Victoria never took care of Sofía again.

Victoria was feeling isolated and uncomfortable at the Hacieda de la Vega. The hostility from Cristina was too obvious and, to keep his wife happy, Diego had minimized the contact with Victoria, even avoiding her sometimes, and that was too painful to bear. Victoria missed Juan terribly, but at the same time, she was ashamed of herself because her old supressed feelings for Diego were reappearing, slowly but powerfully. She was considering moving to the tavern or finding a little cottage for herself and her little boy. Sometimes, she felt so lonely she even wished for Zorro to reappear in her life, so she could try to forget about Diego and Juan. But Zorro was also ignoring her. She had seen him once, at the plaza, and the contact between them had been reduced to a forced: _"Buenos días, señora."_

That was all that he had said. But who could blame him? She had left him behind with no explanations to marry Juan. No wonder he didn't want to have anything to do with her.

In desperation, she buried her face on her pillow and cried for another twenty minutes. That day, it was the third time she had done that.

ZZZ

Doctor Hernández had just finished examining Cristina. He was extremely pleased she had recovered so well, as most women would have died after such obstetric problems and losing so much blood while giving birth. He was very impressed with the blood transfusion, which surely would be giant leap in medicine, although much more research would be needed to make it safer and free of unpredictable reactions.

Diego was in the room too, waiting for the good news, and the doctor thought it would be good time to do _"the talk"_, something he had been avoiding for a while_. _

"Cristina has recovered very well. I am very impressed, because to be honest, at some point I didn't think she could survive at all." Diego nodded, serious.

"You did an excellent job, doctor."

"Thank you, Diego. But it was your blood transfusion what saved her, not me. And her will to live." The doctor cleared his throat a couple of times, before he continued.

"However, under no circumstances should Cristina get pregnant again." He looked directly at her. "You'll probably die. I think your womb was damaged during labour. I am sorry, but another pregnancy would be too risky." The doctor looked at the couple, alternating between them. Cristina didn't look too shocked, content holding Sofía in her arms, either unaware or heedlessly ignoring the implications in Doctor Hernández words. At the moment, she was too happy with her new baby to really care about anything else. The doctor focused on Diego. "Do you _understand_?" Diego nodded slowly, sad and disappointed.

"Yes, doctor. I won't let that happen. Ever."

ZZZZZ


End file.
